Tumgik
#but now i just want to push someone off the window
offthepages · 12 hours
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And so, the stars aligned pt. 4
Azriel x Archeron!Sister reader
Summary: After realizing you are his mate. Azriel races back downstairs to tell the rest of the Inner Circle. Spoiler alert- they already knew.
Warnings: Mentions of past trauma, a very small bit of violence. Let me know if theres anything I missed! a/n: This is unedited, so we aren't talking about it.
Ageless and MDNI
Part One, Part Two, Part Three
Masterlist Requests are open!!
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As the door to your room closed, Azriel found himself frozen in place. His heart was still racing. He can feel his soul reaching out to yours, calling for you to return. The one thing that he always wanted, more than anything in the whole world, was just beyond that door. Someone to call his. Someone to be his. To be someone’s. To have a place to belong. But that door was still in the way. And he could tear it off the hinges for its audacity to stand between you and him. He could rip the door open, watching as you looked at him with those big doe eyes of yours. Stammering as you'd try to hide the shock and ask him what's wrong. Only for him to cross the room. Pull you in and kiss you like his very life depended on it. As if you were air, and he was gasping for it. Your love was the tide that pulled him under, all-consuming. But he didn't feel like he was drowning, no. Never. You were his light, his dark, his everything. His salvation. You were perfect. He felt the bond and knew there was someone at the other end of it. Someone who would feel it with time.
And that thought seemed to pull Azriel out of his less-than-sober state. Whatever the mating bond had done to his head had consumed him. Made him unable to think straight, unable to use any common sense- or any sense at all. He needed to step away, needed to stop smelling your scent. His shadows pull him back, gently urging him to give you space. Part of it makes him smile, that they were so eager to protect you. Part of him looks at the shadows and glares. "Traitors." He mumbles, before going down the stairs. His heart heavy as he takes every step. You were so unaware of his feelings. You always had been, you pushed away any feelings for him in favor of Elain. He watched you do it, heard you talking in hushed whispers to Feyre and Nesta about her wellbeing. You used to join them, but then you just…stopped. That's when Elain started flirting more. It broke his heart to see you back down so easily. Azriel knew you didn’t have any friends outside the Inner Circle…and he felt you watch from the windows. How he wanted to reach his hand out to you, share his time with you the way you shared it with your sister…
His footsteps for once are not muffled, nor does he want them to be. It didn't matter who saw him now, he'd let them know he was there to protect you. So, he allows himself to walk naturally, feeling the weight of everything finally. His footsteps heavier with each step. As Azriel enters the room he notices how the party has slowly stopped talking as he enters. His brothers looked the most concerned, slowly they both stood. Az notes the way their gaze moves about his body, checking for injury. Their shoulders are tense as well as if they’re on edge about something. What he didn’t know, so he raises an eyebrow at them. "Azriel?" Rhys's voice is soft, and gentle, as if he is trying to tame a beast.
"Is everything okay?" Cassian asks next. His voice doesn't share the same gentleness that Rhys's did. But for Cassian, that was gentle. Azriel looks at him, Cassian's hazel eyes shining with concern as he steps forward with Rhys.
Azriel doesn't know where the sudden concern is coming from. He tries his hardest to will his face into one of neutrality. "Yes? Everything is fine." He assures them before trying to sidestep them. Rhys and Cassian grab onto his arms to hold him in place. Azriel is just confused. He looks back at Rhys and Cassian. "What?" His voice laced with that very confusion.
"You’re shaking," Rhys answers. "Your hands are clenched. You look ready to snap." He steps back, Cassian doing the same. Azriel looks down, slowly unclenching his hands, realizing that his siphons are swirling with power as well. Looking back up the stairs to see his shadows swirling outside your door, keeping watch for him to ensure your safety. He looks back to Rhys blinking and suddenly- he gets it. He gets why Rhys fell into Mor's arms screaming and crying that Feyre was his mate—understanding all the decisions Rhys made just to ensure her safety. Seeing why Rhys believed in her under that mountain. Understanding why Cassian fought so hard to try and save Nesta from the Cauldron. He understood how the view of the world changed in just a matter of seconds, and…how it felt knowing that they both figured it out before their mates did. How did they do it? How did they deal with the crippling fear that they might reject them? How did keep smiling? How did they keep it from consuming him? Rhys looks back at Cassian, both of them taking another tentative step toward their brother.
"Az?" Cassian's smooth voice, calming voice- he talked to hurt soldiers like that. Azriel knew that voice. Was that what he was now? A soldier on the battlefield again? Did they see him as the scrawny little kid that showed up at camp? At that thought suddenly he broke.
The tears fall quickly, and blindly Azriel reaches out to grab Rhys's shoulder. He hadn't realized the pain he'd been keeping in his heart. He claws at his shirt; wishing that he didn't have one, to begin with. Rhys pulls him in, holding him tightly. “Woah…” Rhys whispers squeezing him tighter. “Woah, we’ve got you Az. You’re okay. We’ve got you…” Cassian rubs his back- and Azriel knows that they're exchanging glances behind his back. But he doesn't care. But what he doesn't expect to hear is Mor.
"Azriel?" Her voice is soft, full of concern. And he looks up from Rhys's shoulder. Looking at Mor with a tear-stained face, his eyes growing puffier by the second as more tears rolled down. She held her arms up for him. Azriel pushed Rhys away, all but running into Mor. Falling into her arms as he cries harder. Mor's embrace is warm, her skin is soft. She was always so warm, like a sunny spring day. She smelt like vanilla and whiskey. Threading her fingers through his hair, brushing out the curls gently as she started to rock him. "Shh, shh, we’ve got you. What happened? Can you tell us what's wrong?" Her voice is so gentle, soft, and caring in a way that only Mor could manage for him. Azriel realized she was being motherly. He reached for a comfort he'd barely known. A mother's embrace, or in Mor's case; a sister's embrace. Pulling away, Mor wipes his eyes. Nodding she looked up at him with her warm, chocolatey eyes.
"She's my mate." He croaks. It felt so good to get out. It felt good to tell someone, pride surging through him. To declare that you were his. He was yours. You were one. Mor's eyes widened, looking back at Amren, Feyre, and Nesta. "She's my mate, Mor. An-and she didn't feel it, now suddenly I feel like I can't breathe. I feel like I'm drowning. I keep reaching for her but she’s not there. I-I’m panicking about her even though I knew she was right upstairs. Everything is racing. I'm in a free fall, my wings won't open and the ground is getting closer. Everything feels so-"
Nesta grabs Azriel's chin. Tilting his head up to look at her, and he expected to see an icy glare. Instead, he's met with an intense understanding. "You are not dying. You are okay. And you need to take a deep breath." She illustrates what she wants him to do by taking a deep breath herself. Azriel finds himself mimicking her actions, suddenly realizing what he had done. He wasn’t supposed to be weak. His tears were pointless, his pain didn’t matter. He stands straighter, clearing his throat. Looking down at the ground to avoid everyone else's gazes. Nesta continues, "You fucking Illyrian's love too hard." She scoffs, her tone laced with a playful amusement. Though there's also so much truth behind it. "Y/n will accept you as her mate soon enough. But you have to give her the space and opportunity to do so. But, for the record. I am very happy that she is your mate. And you better be good to her or I’ll make you suffer.”
“Nesta!” Feyre hisses, elbowing her sister as she scowls at her. But Azriel laughs, it’s short and quiet but it’s a genuine laugh. Everyone looks at him before he pulls both of them into hugs. Feyre squeaks, but holds onto him. Nesta stiffens but pats his back.
“Thank you…” He whispers, pulling away. Azriel shakes his head and sits on the armchair with a sigh. “I…don’t know what came over me.”
Rhys sits on one of the arms, clapping his brother in the back. “Love does strange things to people.”
“Especially in this family.” Amren rolls her eyes as she scans Azriel for any more signs of an emotional outburst. “But, I also know you haven’t cried in a long, long, time Azriel.” She gives the shadowsinger a pointed look.
Cassian sighs and plops next to Azriel’s other side. Ruffling his hair. “You had us worried there for a second. I thought she insulted you or something.” Cassian laughs, Azriel can’t help but smile.
“No…nothing like that.” He whispers.
Nesta goes to Cassian’s side. Immediately sliding under his arm and putting a hand on his chest as she leans into her mate's warmth. “How did it happen?” Nesta asks, her voice full of curiosity. Remembering her love of romance novels- it didn’t shock Azriel that she wanted to hear the details.
Feyre also made her way closer, sitting on the couch closer to Rhys. Tucking her legs under her as she nods excitedly. “Yes! Tell us all the details, it was my personal favorite, hearing Rhys confess.” She looks over at him and winks.
Azriel chuckles and shakes his head. “She seemed…sad.” He starts slowly, closing his eyes to recount. Picturing the way your eyes slowly faded into a blank stare. “So after she announced she was going to bed. I followed her, but I thought she knew. I ended up scaring her, and I felt this…this nagging part of my brain light up. Telling me to apologize over and over again. As if it didn’t like making that look appear on her face. So, I apologized. But, then she just started…laughing. It felt…different than all the other times. I saw this golden glow around her as if the sun had decided to come back up and only shine on her. And she put her hand on my arm-“ He smiles faintly as his fingers gently trace over the spot yours had been. “It felt…like I was seeing the sun for the first time.” His voice is softer than ever. “And she joked about her intentions with me and her laugh. It was…it was like I couldn’t breathe. She leaned into me, laughing so hard she was snorting, touching me and- and just being…happy. Being her. That was the moment. Looking down at her I knew. I wanted to hear that laugh for the rest of my days. I wanted to be the reason for that laugh. I wanted to pick her up, spin her around, and kiss her like a fish needs water…” He smiles to himself as he pictures you again.
“I’ve loved her for so long. But, but that was the moment I knew. I was going to be there for her no matter what. Her laugh is something I’d fight wars over.”
Nesta is grinning, tears brimming her eyes. “I haven’t heard her laugh like that since she met you.” And Azriel’s heart swells with pride again.
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The next morning as you enter for breakfast everyone’s eyes fall onto you. Blinking at them all you raise your hand to give a shy little wave. “Uh, good morning?”
“Good morning, did you sleep well?” Feyre smiles, Nyx perched on her lap as she offers him a slice of banana. You simply nod at her as you go to take your seat.
Nyx pushes away Feyre’s hand and exclaims, “Titi! Titi!” His little warms going upwards as he bounces in his mother’s lap. You, Nesta, and Elain all exchange glances. Looking at each other in a standoff of who can get to Nyx first. You move first, quickly running around the side of the table that Nesta wasn’t on. But Nesta, the Valkyrie, is quicker. Vaulting over the table- much to Rhys’s chagrin.
“Nesta!” He huffs looking at his plate of food with her handprint in it. Elain sprints around the other side, holding her arms out.
In a split second, darkness enveloped the room. Once it dissipates Azriel stands in the corner holding Nyx up. High above his head as the toddler giggles with glee.“Hello Nyx.” He grins with a triumphant smile. Your legs suddenly feel weak as you look at him. Only Nyx got him to smile like that. You look over at your sisters who are all as gobsmacked as you.
Nesta moves in first, on a mission to get her nephew. “You are not a Titi. So I will take him, please.” She gives an overly sweet smile as she holds her arms out.
Azriel considers for a second, but Nyx is happily playing with one of his siphons on his shoulders. Gently tapping it and watching the magic flow through it. “No, I think he’s content.”
Nesta goes to argue, but Elain steps forward. “Azriel…” She bats her pretty long lashes up at him. “Can I please see him?” She also holds out her hands as she smiles at her nephew.
Nyx again doesn’t respond to her voice. Now trying to munch on the Siphon. “It seems he’s still content.” Azriel shrugs, taking a slice of banana off of Feyre’s plate to give him instead.
It was your turn now and you were determined to win. “Azzy…” Your voice makes him pause. Good, you think. You hold out your arms and bat your eyes at him too. Trying to be as pretty as Elain was. “Let me see my favorite nephew?”
Nesta scoffs, “He’s your only nephew.” You shoot her a glare and look back up at the spymaster.
“Pretty please Az?” You pout, using the little sister privilege you honed. An impenetrable puppy dog face. And much to your delight- and your sister’s annoyance- Azriel crumbles. Earning snickers from around the table, all of which he glares at. Delicately handing Nyx to you and quickly moving as far- far away from you as he can.
Nyx looks up at you and grins. “Titi!” Your eyes shine with brightness and you giggle as you kiss his cheek.
"That's right, Nyx. Titi, the best Titi of all time." You coo, wrinkling your nose at Nesta and Elain. Nesta flips you off as she sits next to Cassian with a huff. And you chuckle as he wraps a wing around her, petting her hair as he offers her a bite of toast. Which she grumpily takes. You smile and sit with Nyx, settling him on your lap as Feyre passes you his plate.
Polite, and not-so-polite conversation takes place. Laughter fills the room and you for once, feel peaceful. Looking around this room filled with so much love. It was- almost too much to bear. But it all comes crashing down as Rhys gets handed a golden envelope. Golden waves were etched into it, along with golden flowers. It caused the conversations to die down as Rhys opened it. You follow his eyes, scanning the page. Watching his eyebrow raise in amusement as he passes the paper to Feyre. "What is it?" Mor asks looking or trying to look over Rhys's shoulder. Cassian stretches as well to try and see what is going on. Feyre holds it closer to her chest as she glares lightly at him. You hold back a snicker as Azriel's shadows loom behind Feyre- also trying to peak.
"It's an invitation," Feyre says simply, nodding as she looks it over again. Suddenly you watch Azriel stiffen.
"From. Who?" He grits out. Your eyebrows knit together in concern. But he doesn't look at you, his golden gaze still focused on Feyre. You could swear that from across the room you saw his eyes get greener. Feyre looks over at him and sighs heavily.
"Tarquin and Tamlin. They're hosting a ball to try and find a wife- or their mate." Feyre explains handing the letter over to Cassian. He greedily takes it, and Nesta pulls it down so she can read it too. Their eyes widened.
"It says they're requesting all unmated females." Cassian looks up at Azriel- almost like they were having a secret conversation. You snatch the letter from Nesta so you can scan it over.
Gasping and biting your lip, you look over at Rhys and Feyre. "Does that mean I can go?" You ask giddily, barely able to keep your excitement in.
Rhys spares a glance at Azriel and then looks back at you. "Would you want too?" His voice is tight. The room falls silent as it waits for your response. But you nod quickly.
"Yes!" You nod quickly, "It's like the fairytales we've read!" She looks over at Azriel, who refuses to look at you. His plate is the only thing that has his interest. But his indifference doesn't sway you. Letting your attention turn back to Rhys and Feyre, "It would be good! Like a show of good faith to send a member of the Night Court! Besides that, I wouldn't go for Tamlin. Not after what he did to you-" You look at Feyre with a gentle smile. Rhys takes hold of her hand, his thumb gently running over her knuckles. "But, I could find my mate there! Or hell I'd even settle for a boyfriend." You try to joke to clear the awkward tension. But all it did was cause Azriel to stand abruptly and walk out. Standing back up you go to follow him, but Nesta takes your hand, shaking her head. Sitting back down as you look at the letter.
"…It would be fun," Feyre says quietly. "We could bring the whole Inner Circle. It gives Amren a reason to see Varian. And we can show Nyx to everyone. You have the shields Hellion taught you, so you can protect us. It would be fun, we should go." She nods determinedly as she looks at her husband. Their eyes glaze over as they speak to one another but you look back at the door Azriel just walked out of. His shadows lingered around as if reporting what Rhys said. He sighed heavily.
"I'll respond with all that are attending." You squeal and rush over to hug him, kissing his cheek.
"You're the best Rhys! Thank you!" And warmth comes back to the room as your sisters smile at you. Immediately bringing up how they plan to doll you up.
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Rhys's study door swings open as Azriel storms in. His siphons churning with power and the only thing that gives him pause is Feyre sitting on the desk in front of a chair. Rhys flanked her left, Cassian on her right. Amren and Mor are on Rhys's side. Nesta on Cassian's. Azriel glares at Rhys, "What is this."
Feyre points to the chair. "Sit." Azriel crosses his arms in a silent refusal. Feyre raises an eyebrow.
"Azriel we are not your enemy right now." She says gingerly. Trying a gentler approach, as if he would start crying again. His fists clench as he grinds his teeth.
"You are." He says simply. "You're letting her go."
"Azriel you know damn well that we give choices in this court." Rhys snaps, Feyre putting a hand on his chest. "I don't know why you suddenly think you can control her-"
"I know I can't control her." Azriel snaps at Rhysand. Their eyes meet and Azriel grits out, "But she is a mated female. And it is a slap in my face that you consider my mating bond so unimportant that what? Get another fucking Alliance? Like how you were gonna marry Nesta off to Eris."
"Azriel." Cassian snaps, standing to his full height. "You don't get to bring up my mate just because you're pissy." Nesta pulls him back. Her blue/grey eyes meet his as she steps forward. Cassian watched her like a hawk. But Nesta didn't balk.
"I was going to marry Eris because I didn't feel worthy of the love that Cassian was giving me. And the reason Rhysand wants us to go is so that y/n can be happy. Isn't that something you want for her Azriel? You know how we grew up, but did you know that y/n used to lay in our bed and ask me to tell her stories? She'd ask me about balls, what princes were like. She's dreamed of this. Finding her true love over there. So-" Nesta jabs Azriel's chest. "Suck it up."
Azriel's jaw tightened. And then, Rhysand spoke. "You won't be going." The room fell silent.
"What."
"Lucien got the same letter, he's requested that we not bring Elain. Elain is okay with that, they want to take this as an opportunity to get to know each other. You will be here to keep them safe and chaperone for Elain's comfort. You are silent, you are friends with Elain and it will give you time to sort out whatever is going on with your attitude." Rhysand tries to keep his voice even, and clear, end all be all. Azriel waited for the hypocrisy of the moment to hit him, but when it didn't.
"No," Azriel says simply. "No make someone else do it. I am not going to sit here while you cart her around. Pick someone else."
"That's not happening. She hasn't felt the bond yet Azriel. And trust me, I know how hard it is. But I let Feyre go-"
"She's not Feyre. She can't fight. She isn't your mate, she's mine and I have her best interest-"
"You have a possessive interest." Rhys snaps. "She is allowed to make choices."
Azriel looks at Rhysand with disdain. His nose wrinkles in anger and his shadows swirl around him. Siphons flicker as his temper grows. "I didn't say she wasn't." He tries to speak calmly. He was better than this. Azriel didn't need to lose his temper, he didn't even know where this was coming from. No doubt the mating bond, everything involving you made every inch of his skin feel too tight. Like he needed your touch to cool the boiling beneath it. He had normally kept his cool in the face of adversity, he didn't question Rhysand. But when you were in the fold? He couldn't stop it. The images of you coming home with your arms linked with Tarquin or- oh god- Tamlin? The images of how thin Feyre had been when she first arrived flashed in his mind. And then- you. You being that thin, in a gaudy and ugly wedding dress. Big, puffy sleeves and begging him down the bond to save you. "But I want to go with her."
Rhys looks at everyone and sighs. "Azriel. We all decided-"
"You decided? Decided that I wasn't allowed near her?" He growls.
"You all decided what to do with me." Nesta chimes in. Azriel turns to her with a fire in his eyes.
"We decided that because we didn't want to watch you drink yourself into your immortal grave. We wanted you to heal and the only way to get you to do anything, Nesta Archeron, is through spite. Telling you that you have to do something or you must. But even still we didn't separate you from Cassian." Azriel fumed. He had never been like this with anyone. So raw, so angry. Showing his baseline of emotions. He couldn't stop it, everything felt like it was about to boil over. So he looks back to Feyre. "Please. I am begging you, to let me go."
Feyre looks over at Rhys. Rhysand shakes his head. "No. Azriel it will look bad for you to claim her-"
It was a blur. Everything happened so fast. Azriel moved before he knew what he was doing. Everything in him screamed out, at the people whom he called family locking him away once again from something he wanted so badly. And he saw his Father and stepmother. Overseeing his visits with his Mother. Not letting him stay with her no matter how hard he begged. Keeping his wings bound to his back despite the need to fly. All he felt was that red-hot anger. His blood felt like it was scalding under the surface. His skin was simmering and he wasn't sure if he was actually smoking or if it was his shadows that curled around his forearms. His voice felt like there was a vice grip around it. Why?! Why was no one listening to him! Why didn't they understand? He didn't want to control you or tell you that you couldn't do something. He just wanted to be there. All he wanted to do was make sure that you were happy. He didn't want to play babysitter again to another set of mates. He just wanted to watch you shine.
He comes back into his own body to realize that he'd punched Rhysand. His black eye starting to form. Two strong hands were on his elbows as he was forced to sit. Cassian. They were Cassian's hands. Azriel calmed and eased into the chair. Rhys puts a hand to face blinking in shock. Looking at Azriel with one good eye. The room was silent. They could have heard a pin drop miles away. Azriel tried to open his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He hangs his head in shame, waiting for Rhysand to tell him to leave.
"Cauldron boil me." Rhysand laughs and kneels in front of Azriel. "You really think that?" He whispers looking at his brother with sincerity. "That all you are is a babysitter?" Azriel blinks and looks at him with wide eyes. "You said it all. Screamed it right into my head. Made me feel it." He gives him a gentle smile. "Az, that's not what I was trying to say." Rhys sighs heavily and shakes his head. "I didn't think you could handle it. That rage? I understand it. I felt it every day Under the Mountain, and every day when Feyre was with Tamlin. I don't want you to think I don't trust you. But I know it's hard to contain. Case in point-" He points to the black eye.
Azriel swallows thickly, still unable to voice his apology. ' I'm sorry Rhysand. I understand. I don't like it, feeling so angry. The bond just- amplified all of my emotions.' Rhys nods along to what Azriel speaks into his mind.
"It gets easier. For now," He sighs and shakes his head. "It might just be the better idea to bring you along. Being near her should help."
Azriel nods. Still looking down at the ground, and then he feels gentle arms wind around him. Nesta. "Thank you for being my friend." She whispers. Another set of arms wind around him. Feyre.
"Thank you for being our eyes and ears."
Another set of arms. Mor. "Thank you for always protecting me."
More arms. Cassian. "We are your family. And we never want you to feel like you don't matter."
Two more. Rhys. "I am the biggest hypocrite."
"Really." Amren's voice cuts through. But then there is a little scuffle as someone, most likely Mor, pulls Amren into the group hug. He hears her sigh. "…Thank you for punching Rhysand." The group laughs warmly. Maybe everything was going to be alright.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Your arms squeeze Elain tightly. "I'm very excited for you!" You say warmly. "I think you'll be a happier woman when we come back." You wink at her. Elain scuffs and rolls her eyes, but her cheeks redden at the idea.
"Well, I hope you come back with so many stories that I would be jealous." She teases you as she pulls you back and makes you sit on a pink stool. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, she brushes your hair out and helps you put it half up, half down. Something pretty and yet elegant. Finishing she looks at you in the mirror. "You look beautiful."
You grin, shrugging. "Thanks, Elain." Not knowing how to respond. "Let us know how it's going?" You hold up a pinky to her, Elain rolls her eyes and links your pinkies.
"I will write the most boring and mundane letters just to shock you with the truth when you get back." She teases. You feigned hurt before you heard Rhysand call for you. You and your sister share a giddy smile and you rush down the stairs.
The whole Inner Circle stands there with various bags, the 'ball' would be taking place over a week. With dances each night, not all of which were deemed mandatory- only the first and last night were. But you were going to be staying in a newly rebuilt Spring Court. Feyre had been nervous at first, but Lucien helped ease her nerves. Assuring her that they wouldn't be near the Manor and that Tamlin had completely rebuilt. It was almost unrecognizable. But none of that mattered, you were going to be going to every ball you could, dancing the nights away, sleeping in, wearing all the beautiful dresses you could. You were ready to take this ball by storm.
Lucien looked up at Elain, bowing his head. Your sister halted, and you gave her a subtle push toward him. "You look well," Elain whispers.
"As do you." He smiles.
Leaving the two to talk. You look over at Azriel, you haven't talked to Azriel since that morning. And he wasn't at breakfast the next day. So you took this opportunity to cross the room to his side. He looks down at you, giving a small smile in greeting. You smile back, "Azriel." You speak softly, suddenly feeling bashful. You hadn't known why he suddenly stopped coming around you, but you knew that you wanted to remedy it. You wanted him closer to you, you wanted your friend back. "Are you excited?"
Azriel looks at you with a raised eyebrow, his eyes have a glint of amusement in them. "You do realize that you're asking the biggest introvert here if he's excited to go to a ball."
You pout, glaring at him. "…you can lie to me."
That gets a chuckle out of Azriel as he extends a hand to you. "Then I am thrilled to go spend this week somewhere I'm not comfortable." You elbow him as you take his hand.
"Is there anything I can do to help you feel more comfortable?" You ask, tilting your head to the side as you step outside. Azriel lets his wings expand, quickly scooping you up into his arms. The others would Winnow to the house, but Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel wanted to fly. And so, Amren uncomfortably held Nyx. The toddler playing with her necklace as Mor got ready to Winnow. Rhysand scooped up Feyre, Cassian held Nesta, and… Azriel held you. Quickly shooting up into the air, a sound between a gasp and a squeal sounded from you. Holding onto Azriel tighter, you feel him hold you tighter before he leans into your ears.
"Just stay close by in case I need you." He answers. You blink up at him before smiling and nodding.
"I'll be right by your side." You promise. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── a/n: I personally hc that the mating bond can be really intense and amplify every emotion- even if it has nothing to do with your mate. So Azriel being so on edge, is just because that man needs a fucking hug. Anyways!! I hope y'all enjoyed!!
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sisters-sideblog · 1 day
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I’m a day late for sickfic day of Raivoli week but simply could not pass up that prompt. Read it here or on Ao3!
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Link frowned, sitting up in bed. Something was off. 
No one bustled around his tiny little single room cottage. The shutters on all the windows remained closed. No lanterns lit the dark room. Only the dim glow of last night’s embers in the hearth and morning sunlight peeking around the edges of the shutters provided any light to see by. 
Ravio wasn’t up. Strange. Most mornings he beat Link to waking. 
In the darkness, someone sniffed. 
Link turned to the lump under the covers next to him. 
They’d been sharing a bed for a few weeks now, whenever Link wasn’t stuck in the depths of some dungeon. It still felt strange, but less strange than making Ravio spread a bedroll out on the hard floor while Link himself enjoyed a lumpy but soft mattress. 
Another quiet sniffle. Crying? The thought made Link’s stomach curl uncomfortably. But no, this time it was followed by a light cough and a soft, miserable little noise.
“Mister Hero?” Ravio whispered. He sounded stuffy and about as pathetic as Link had ever heard him. The times he’d talked his way into Link’s house and then his bed both included. “Are you awake?”
Ravio still insisted on covering his face, even at night. At least he took off the hood, turning his back to Link for long enough to cover both hair and ears with a wrap and an oversized, brilliantly purple sleeping mask to dwarf most of the rest of his features. The bunny hood lay in a heap on the floor; usually he woke before Link to put it on. 
Covered eyes turned towards Link in the darkness. Was it his imagination that the very tip of the nose just barely visible under the lower edge of the mask looked a little red? 
“I’m awake,” he whispered back.
“Mister Hero, I feel terribly unwell,” Ravio moaned, laying on the drama now that he knew he had an audience. Link rolled his eyes, secure in the knowledge that it would remain unseen. “I think I need a healing potion. Maybe a fairy? I definitely need a fairy. Oh, but what if there aren’t any? You’ll take care of Sheerow, won’t you? I - what are you doing?”
Between the turban and the sleeping mask, a sliver of Ravio’s forehead remained exposed to open air. The palm of Link’s hand immediately started to feel a little sweaty, but Link knew perfectly well that wasn’t because of Ravio. 
“Checking for fever,” he said as casually as he could, pulling his hand back. The skin seemed to tingle with the remembered warmth of Ravio’s skin. It was the normal amount of warmth. “You don’t have one.” 
“I can’t possibly open the shop today,” Ravio bemoaned. He coughed again. Link listened carefully, but it sounded dry, no rattling of phlegm. He sounded stuffy, yes, but he hadn’t yet coughed himself hoarse. “I can’t talk to people like this! An entire day of lost profits!”
Link wasn’t impressed. “It’s just a cold. I’m renting your entire stock. And if I want to buy something, you don’t need to open the shop for me. I live here.” He still felt the need to remind Ravio of that from time to time. 
Ravio’s hands flailed blindly. Link jerked his head back to avoid getting smacked in the nose. “I get other customers! One of them still has the sand rod!” Ravio declared with such a loudly dramatic hiss that he set himself into a true coughing fit, the first Link had heard from him that morning. Link grabbed his hand and pulled him to sit upright, patting his back until the fit passed. 
“I’ll make you some tea,” he decided. The audible dryness in his throat did sound painful, and the steam would be good for his sinuses. 
He heard the whisper of fabric across the floor as soon as he headed towards the kitchen and kept his head politely turned away while Ravio swapped his sleeping mask for the hood he could, theoretically, see out of. 
“And breakfast?” Ravio added hopefully, clogged nose adding to the overall air of pathetic neediness. 
“Don’t push your luck.” 
But once he had the kettle on, Link pulled out a pan and some eggs. Ravio nursed him back to health a time or two, after all; that was how they met. He could afford to return the favor. 
△△△
(Brought to you by the headcanon that Ravio gets terribly dramatic over the mildest of colds and is the most demanding patient he can possibly be.)
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volturiprincess · 9 hours
Text
Rain
Demetri Volturi x human mate reader
Summary: Reader gets overwhelmed with stress and he's there to support her Warnings: mentions of an anxiety attack, but mostly fluff A/N: Omg someone stop me😁, another one-shot post?? I had to write this because as I was taking my breaks I would work on this, its not proofread but the idea of Demetri calling the reader Spanish nicknames is a must have but throw rainy weather into the topic and muah *chefs kiss*. Enjoy and there will be a second A/N in the end. A little translation for my non-Spanish speakers: Mi cariño: dear or darling Mi vida: My life Princessa: princess Mi amado hermoso: My beautiful lover
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(I cant believe it took me a while to write a Demetri one-shot)
I burst through our shared room in a panic state and I saw my lovely mate on his special chair. Before I could even react he was already wrapping his arms around me and cuddling me into his chest. I felt the build up tears I was holding back cascade down my cheeks. Demetri was rubbing my back in comfort and I heard him mumble
“Mi cariño, let it all out, I know you need this”
I sure did need this, all of today I was working on a project for a class and I ended up deleting about half of it and couldn't recover it at all. I always threw my computer out the window but instead I stared at the blank page that was staring back at me with what I could assume was mockery. I did manage to remember a good amount of what I had done and it's back to how it is, but I spent a while in a state of shock and denial.
Suddenly I felt myself shaking physically, my heart increase in palpitation and worst of all I could feel my breath becoming shorter. Demetri picked up right away that I was dealing with an anxiety attack and he guided me toward the balcony to the fresh air and the light rain. 
“Mi vida, look its raining, you love the rain, hey look at how pretty it looks”
I turn my head to be able to face the scenery instead of his very well built chest to see how soft and calming it is currently. I told Demetri before that I love the rain, it's my personal safe haven other than his arms. I felt my trembling and shaking diminished slightly, my heart rate started to slow down to a more reasonable way but my breathing was still a problem.
I felt him tilt my head up so I was looking at him and my breath for a minute hitch, he looked breathtaking right now. There were small droplets of rain running down his face which caused his hair to stick to his forehead and his eyes were full of adoration. He looked beautiful at that moment, well he always looks beautiful, I heard him one time arguing with Felix and he ended the conversation with “Dont hate me because im beautiful”. 
I smiled at the memory and soon enough he had a look of curiosity with a matching smile
“What's got you smiling like that princessa?”
“I was just think about your statement to end an argument with Felix, the don't hate because i'm beautiful”
His laughter filled the gloomy atmosphere that the rain created, his laugh sounding like music to my ears. One of his hands started to caress my cheek gently, his coldness immediately sending a small shiver down my spine but also somehow started to steady my breathing.
“Look at you princessa, your doing so good in breathing, such a good girl”
I blush at the praise which he never fails to miss, he knows what praises from him does to me, many thoughts come to mind but I push them away for now since I am still recovering from the earlier events.
“Do you want to talk about it/”
“My computer decided to throw me a whole 360 today”
“A whole 360? Im sorry cariño, but you need to explain that to me”
I giggled at his dumbfounded look, it's always fun to be able to still catch a vampire as old as him off guard with my modern language “Right forgot your like a million years old, I was working on a project today for one of my classes on my computer and I accidentally deleted like half of it but like I barely started it so it was no big deal because I remember what I had so far but it was just so frustrating you know”
He continued to caress my cheek as he nods along to my explanation 
“And it just so stressful in thinking I have so much to do still before this week ends and I feel like I have done what I needed to do but its not enough still and and—”
He placed his finger on my lips to silence me and I tiled my head to the side from curiosity, this is new. His signature smirk spread onto his face at my reaction
“Sorry love, but you started to spiral into chaos and as much as adore to hear you ramble, I started to feel stress myself from your stress”
I looked down in embarrassment but he tilted my head up once again 
“Hey don't be embarrassed cara, it's good for you to talk about what stresses you out, better out and in you know?”
“Your right metri”
“Now care to have a dance with me in the rain then?”
Whining at his request, even if that has secretly been a dream of mine to do “Demi you know i'm not even a good dancer, heck I don't even know how to”
“But that's the fun part princessa, I can teach you and we will be dancing in your favorite type of weather”
“Fair point”
As the rain intensified slightly, he guided my moves with such elegance that I almost felt like I myself am an expert to begin with. The rain at that moment was not a bother, my main focus was my casanova of a vampire that I call mi amado hermoso.
A/N: You know I don't know why I haven't added any Spanish nicknames to my writings, but I will in future (I feel like Demetri would just know all of the most romantic languages). I know I mentioned this in my Alec one-shot but I am working on a Caius one, its a work in progress indeed maybe in the end of this week I might have part one done, who knows?
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ohmygraves · 3 months
Text
after one of your leave, you came back to work with a ring around your finger.
you didn't mention it to anyone, and people simply noticed it when talking to you or handing you things. they congratulated you, talking about the ring. you nervously brushed it off, trying to explain it.
ghost didn't know about it either, and when he overheard someone talking about it, he dropped his mug of tea on the floor, the pieces scattering around the place.
this was such a shock to someone who had planned to propose to you.
well, propose might be a bit too far, considering you two are not even dating. he wanted to say it, but things were a little too hectic and he didn't have the guts to ask you out and moreover you're not sure if you'd like him... even if you two have been friends in the taskforce for years.
then again, in his mind, you two are practically an old married couple.
he was clearly upset by this, ignoring you and trying to push you away. he was undoubtedly hurt. did you elope with someone? why didn't you tell him? invite him to the party? did your "friendship" with him mean nothing at all?
ghost was snappy, in a terrible mood overall. he snaps at johnny, yells at gaz, and even glares at price. he was constantly on edge and it's starting to piss you off. so you confront him.
"what the hell's up with you?"
he didn't feel like humoring you, sitting down all irritated over his meal instead.
"you've been avoiding me all week, snapping at people... did i do something wrong?"
so he went off at you.
"wanna know what's wrong? you. coming back to base with a bloody ring. let me guess, you eloped with someone? is that it?" he hissed, "and here i thought i'd propose, that's out of the fuckin' window now."
you sat there, taking his words in. "... it's a fidget ring?"
you showed your hand to him, using your fingers to spin the little parts of your ring. he didn't realize how you've been fidgeting with it, or how you explained to people over and over that you're not married or engaged.
all of the sudden ghost felt like his blood ran cold, not only because he just acted so stupid jealous over a trinket, he basically admitted that he wanted to marry you.
"... wait, you wanted to propose to me?"
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enkvyu · 9 months
Text
12:45am — gojo satoru ;
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“cute earrings, where’d you get them?” shoko asks.
“hm?” still clinging to sleep, you absentmindedly reach up to caress the metal dangling from your ear. the sharp indents of its gem pricks you back into a memory. “oh, these. i got them from a friend last week.”
“friend? or do you mean boyfriend?”
shoko’s words are throwaway, her wandering eyes and yawn a clear indication yet your face warms despite yourself. shaking your head furiously, you exclaim, “a friend! just a friend."
shoko hums, shifting her cigarette to the other end of her mouth. her gaze flickers somewhere behind you and you almost look too, when her words pull you back. “come to think of it, i don’t think you’ve ever told me what your type was.”
“my type?” your mind blanks. “i’ve probably never told you because i’ve never thought about it myself. i mean, being a jujutsu sorcerer and all, romance is kind of off the table.”
shoko keeps looking at you, pressing you without words. you grimace and sigh.
"i mean, i guess, maybe someone good looking? someone who’s not boring? and now that we're talking about it, someone who is fit and athletic too. they'd have to be smart, but not book-smart, like, street-smart." the more you think of it, the more words seem to spill from your mouth. "and someone who has a good sense of humour, someone who will make me laugh.”
“someone good looking, interesting, sporty, smart and funny? that’s too greedy.”
you giggle. “you’re right, there’s no way there’s anyone that perfect. i guess i’ll have to be single forever.”
“you'll always have me.” shoko says, grinning.
you push her shoulder but don’t deny it.
yaga walks into the classroom, cutting your conversation short. you spin around in your seat to face the front, eyes accidentally meeting gojo’s. he turns around too, and you reason that he was probably looking out the window behind you. you see getou snicker and whisper something in his ear, but gojo seemed to be having none of it, blatantly ignoring him.
seeing his face makes you think. didn’t gojo kind of match your type? someone attractive, interesting, athletic and maybe not academic smart, but he definitely carried an air of confidence when it came to fighting. and it wasn't a secret that he lightened the air wherever he went, intentionally or not.
with a start, you look back at shoko. “and someone calm. someone with manners.”
“well-mannered and calm. what insane preferences.” shoko chuckles. “are there any more?"
yaga slams his hand on the table a few times, reluctantly drawing your attention back to the front.
your previous conversation dies and twiddles away into the background, overtaken by droning lectures and predictable missions. by the end of the day, you can't even remember what you had told shoko early that morning.
when you enter the classroom the next day, you’re surprised to find gojo already there, seated at his table. his sunglasses hangs lower on his nose than usual and most curiously of all, a book is held in his hands. you’re not sure if he’s actually reading or not considering that pages were being turned far too quickly for someone reading “ordinary objects” by amie thomasson.
his eyes flicker to yours as you head in. “good morning.”
“morning. what’s with you?”
gojo clears his throat. “what ever do you mean?”
your frown transitions to a grimace. “why are you talking like that? did you break something of mine? was it my potted plant, gojo i told you to take good care of it!”
“i am taking care of it! it’s not dead yet!” he exclaims before pausing uncharacteristically. he sits back in his chair and turns back to his book. “i mean, it’s fine.”
“you sure?”
“i am.”
you narrow your eyes before looking away, dropping into your seat. “it better be. shoko got me that one.”
“speaking of shoko, is she not coming today?”
“i think she stayed overnight at the morgue.”
“is that so? perhaps i should write notes for her. i wouldn’t want her to miss out on class.”
you turn to him horrified. “so you did kill my plant!”
“i said it’s not dead!” gojo bursts. another pause. he clears his throat, adjusting his glasses. “i simply worry for her.”
you stare at him and watch as he fidgets under your gaze. “are you feeling sick? did you eat something wrong?”
“i’m not sick. what part of me looks sick?"
“well you’re usually not this…” you watch him as you wrack your brain, trying to find a word to describe this situation. “c…”
gojo leans forward. “yes?”
“crazy.”
he falls back in his chair, groaning, book forgotten and placed harshly down on the table.
you tilt your head. “where's getou, you guys didn’t come to class together? don’t tell me you fought.”
gojo peers up and frowns. “no, can i not show up to class early just because i feel like it?”
“it would be extremely out of character, yeah.” you rest your chin on your hand as you watch gojo mutter to himself, his jaw jutted out and his nose scrunched.
he was clearly unhappy, it didn’t take a scholar to know. it might take a genius to figure out why though.
you had time to kill, might as well take up the challenge. maybe he hadn’t had his morning dose of sugar yet, or maybe his favourite anime had delayed it’s upcoming episode. maybe he didn't save properly on the new game he was playing, or maybe he simply didn't sleep well last night. or maybe he had lied to you and he had fought with getou, leading to this strange attitude.
the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. the way he was acting now was like a mockery to getou's usual behaviour.
“are you trying to be like getou?” you try.
gojo whirs around to face you. “what?”
“well, you’re trying to be composed.” he keeps staring at you and you clear your throat. “like more well-mannered. more calm.”
gojo remains silent but you watch as his jaw drops. you think that he might say something but then his mouth closes, only to open again.
gojo speechless, what a sight. but as good of a sight as it was, you were beginning to feel concerned.
“are you sure you’re alright? what did you eat yesterday?”
he doesn’t register your question. “you think getou is well-mannered?”
“yeah?”
“and calm?”
you nod. “more than you, at least.”
“do you think he’s interesting too? sporty? smart? funny?” he pauses. “good-looking?”
the questions throw you off guard and you sit up. “what? where is this coming from?”
“oh my god, you do.”
“no? i mean, i think getou’s great and everything—”
“you think getou’s great?”
“don’t you?”
“you think getou’s hot.” he concludes. “and you think getou’s great.”
"what are you even saying?"
"i don't know. why don't you tell me?"
baffled, you flail for words. “are you jealous of him? that's strange, i didn’t think either of you would ever feel jealous of each other.”
gojo grits his teeth and looks away. with a pout, he says, “me neither.”
the door to the classroom is thrown open and getou steps through, rubbing the back of his neck. he yawns on his way to his chair and it wakes him up, looking between you and gojo as you both watch him enter.
“what did you guys do?” he asks with a sigh.
“nothing!”
“nothing.” gojo says and glares at him.
getou blinks.
“okay.” he says slowly, sliding out his chair and sitting. “what did i do then? why are you both looking at me like that?”
“gojo’s being weird.” you snitch. “are you guys fighting?”
“how should i know? i thought we were doing okay. gojo, if i did something, use your words and tell me.”
"i'll use my words to tell you to suck my dick instead."
"so i did do something. you're so predictable, gojo."
you snicker as gojo huffs and glances away, looking away out the window behind your head. his train of sight cuts right past you but you can’t help but feel slightly flustered as he looks on, almost like he was looking at you, so determined to ignore getou’s pestering.
subconsciously, you drown getou out too, your traitorous mind observing the blue in gojo’s eyes. you had always thought it was just one colour, but looking at it now, it seemed more like a kaleidoscope of blues, the many shades sparkling and dimming as he watched birds flutter outside the window, and you watched their shadows through his eyes.
something shifts, in the air or in the skies you don't know, and gojo meets your eye. startled, you hold the gaze and he holds it too, just long enough for your lungs to run out of air.
you look away hastily and inhale.
gojo glances to the front, oddly fidgety.
getou looks between the two of you. “what the fuck was that?”
“nothing.” gojo says.
getou clearly doesn't buy it but though he tries to get an answer out of you, you don't give him one either. cupping your cheeks, your thoughts mirror his question. what was that? it was embarrassing, that's what it was and your realisation is only heightened as a silence fills all four corners of the classroom.
gojo clears his throat. “for me, i like someone who i'm already comfortable with. someone i already know.”
at his words, you look over at him and find him already staring. he frowns as you don't give him any other reaction.
yaga saves you from addressing his statement, walking into the room as the bell for class rang. "oh? you're all early, even you gojo. where's shoko?"
“she’s staying at the morgue because of the recent mission.”
“i see.” yaga nods. “then let’s start.”
your mind fails to work as you turn over gojo’s words, thinking them through. what did they mean? what was he talking about? did this weird confession have something to do with why he was acting so strange?
slowly, you draw connections between your conversation with gojo and the talk you had with shoko yesterday morning. an epiphany shoots through you and you cover your mouth to hide a gasp.
did that mean…?
someone he knew? acting strange? getting mad when you said you liked getou?
you watch gojo’s side profile, hoping he’d turn around. if what you thought was right, he’d turn.
seconds tick past. yaga’s voice drawls on and yet gojo doesn't even spare you a glance.
no, maybe you were wrong after all.
just as you were about to face yaga again, gojo’s head shifts and his eye flicks over to yours. they widen when he finds you, and you’re sure you’re in a similar shocked state.
oh my god, you think, eyes darting between him and the other boy in the room.
gojo has a crush on getou.
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filler imagine based off of that One scene from the manga: "megane tokidoki yankee kun"
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simonrileysfavteacup · 2 months
Text
The Morning After
Paring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x wife!reader
Word count: 700 ish?
Warnings: Mentions to sex, hickeys, naked people, Simon wanting you for breakfast
Summary: The morning after a steamy night.
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Sunlight creeps in through the curtains you never closed last night. The curtains fly around the room, pushed by the daring wind. The window’s are still open, letting in the chirps of birds outside. The wind pushes a breeze around the room and you shiver.
You’re laying on your right shoulder. There’s a heavy arm that isn’t yours draped across your waist. There’s a head tucked into the crook of your neck. There’s another forearm underneath your head. There’s someone’s heavy breathing going straight into your neck. You can feel a bit of stubble. You can feel hair, long, soft hair. You can feel a strong chest against your back. All of it is memorized in your mind.
And there’s only one person in the whole world who’s body you know inch by inch. 
You squint as you open your eyes, the sunlight almost killing you. The duvet is all messed up, barely covering your tangled bodies. His right arm is underneath your head, draped off your side of the bed. His grip on your waist is loose, he’s still asleep. His breathing is even, you can feel it. 
You push yourself out of bed slightly, making a move to shut the window and close the curtains. He grabs onto your waist tightly and pulls you back into the position you were in before. His voice is raspy, almost not even there, as he says, “Five more minutes.”
It should be illegal. His voice. His hair. His chest slowly falling and rising. It should be illegal to look this fucking good in the morning.
“Just wanna close the window,” You reply, keeping your voice hushed. 
“Who gives a shit?” He pulls the duvet higher over you, covering your naked body from the wind. “There. Now, give me 10 more minutes.”
His hand goes back to your waist, covering the soft maroon and purple bruises that formed throughout the night. 
So, you lay back down, take in a deep breath, and try to fall asleep. 
At least an hour goes by before you finally wake up again. Your position hasn’t changed and Simon’s hold on your waist is loose again. You finally move, getting up from bed. He doesn’t pull you back this time, but rolls over. He lets out a groan. “Oh, shut up, you big baby. I gave you more than 10 minutes.”
He doesn’t respond. Just lets out another groan, but louder and longer.
You grab the shirt he wore last night, the one he threw into a random corner of the room, more focused on your body. You toss it into the hamper. His pants and boxers are thankfully close enough to the hamper, yours nowhere to be found. Guess he was a little too excited.
You walk into the bathroom, getting a fine look at yourself in the mirror.
Hickeys and the traces of fingertips line your neck and chest, your hips and legs are covered, and I mean covered, in bruises. On both sides of your hips are marks of large, muscular hands. The marks are red, and it doesn’t look like it’ll all fade in the next hour. You turn slightly, getting a look at your back. Your ass is marked the same way your hips are, with large hand prints, your back thankfully okay. 
“You’re hurt,” Simon’s voice is barely above a whisper as he stares at you from the bed. 
This happens every time he leaves a mark on you. He turns cold again, becoming distant in fear of hurting you again. Every single time. It takes so many words of encouragement to get him to open up again, assuring him it didn’t hurt. 
“They’ll fade,” You shrug.
“I hurt you,” He whispers. 
“No, you didn’t. Last night was probably one of the best nights of my entire life, love. Don’t you dare think I’m in any sort of pain or anything. I’m fine,” You smile at him. “And I left a fair share of marks on you. Look at your back.”
He lets out a soft chuckle, looking over at you again. “Promise?”
“Swear on my life,” You smile. “You want breakfast?”
“Mhm,” He hums, walking over to you and kneeling in front of you. “It’s already served.” Are his last words before diving in between your legs.
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secretlovezz · 7 months
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Simon with an s/o who has a cat
Prt.2 here! <-
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He hates your cat 😭
Their literally mortal enemies it's ridiculous
The cat glares at Simon 24/7 and he stares right back
You finally make it home after a stressful day at work ready to shower and relax. You open the front door and call out, "I'm home!" You get no response. It makes your brows furrow in confusion, having been used to a little furry friend lying on your unused shoes waiting for you to get home or hearing the heavy steps of your boyfriend making his way toward you. But today there was no welcome wagon for you.
Your heart immediately racks in worry the once steady beat of it moving to an unnaturally quick pace. Your hands move faster to remove your shoes and jacket wanting to look for the person and cat that once populated your apartment.
You call out again, "Simon? My Baby?"
"In here, dove." At the sound of your lover's voice, you're on the move heading to where his voice had been most prominent.
When you get to Simon- in the bathroom -he's clad in only a towel water still dripping from his hair and body and condensation on the mirror signifying he's just gotten out of the shower. Then your gaze goes to his face and his eyes aren't on you they're focused on something on the counter.
Your cat.
They're staring at each other both of them refusing to look away from one another. They were barely blinking. Then you realize why Simon's having a glaring contest with your pet, it's because the cat was on his clothes refusing to move out of pure stubbornness.
Suddenly you're glaring at the both of them too, "Are you guys being serious right now? This is getting ridiculous," you tell them and with Simon's response you roll your eyes and walk away.
"Oh, this is deadly serious, love"
Sometimes when Simon walks by your cat it latches onto Simon's leg kicking and biting the shit out of him (your poor boyfriend is just about ready to chuck the cat into outer space)
Your little fur baby definitely steals or tries to steal food from Simon's plates. Simon swears the cat gets stronger when determined to get into his stuff
Simon's cups have been knocked off of tables more often then not being left to clean up a mess that isn't his
Your looking up from your plate of food as soon as you hear grumbles and silverware clanking roughly against a porcelain plate. You smile a little at the sight in front of you. Simon's pushing your cats head back away from his food, while the cat uses all of his strength. Simon's scowl at the animal only gets deeper when he sees you smile at his unfortunate situation.
"You better not be smilin'," He says annoyance clear in his tone.
Now your laughing, a sound simon usually adores, one that makes his body relax, one that makes him feel safe, but now it has him clenching his jaw and has his eyebrows furrowed.
"Make 'im stop," He growls.
You pretent to think about it for a moment, pointer finger tapping your chin in faux thought, "I don't know si... this is thoroughly entertaining. What's in it for me if I help you?" The vein on his arm looked like it might burst at your question.
"If you don't get this dammed cat away from me it's gonna go missin'," you roll your eyes at his dramatics but called your cat to you regardless.
When you cuddle with one of them the other gets sooooo jealous
Simon will literally toss your little baby off the bed
The cat hits and claws for simon to get away from you
(Your constantly having to scold them its like having two children)
These two will argue with each other Simon's voice is stern its how you imagine he talks to new recruits and your cat is meowing loudly at him clearing cussing him tf out
Groggily peeling open your crused eyes open but quickly closing them as the bright morning sun peeked through your bedroom window you start to awaken. You rubbed into your eyes with the back of your fist before opening them again moving to look at the clock on the bedside table.
11:23
You slept in, or really someone let you sleep in because to your right your boyfriend seemed to have long since left the bed leaving the side he usually accompanied empty and cold.
You stretched and groaned the sheets and blankets moved with you weird groans and grunts leaving your yawning mouth as your joints crackled and popped. You sat up in bed still drowsy with sleep barley aware of your surroundings but still you gripped the enormous blanket and wrapped it around yourself as an act to shield the breezy-ness of the winter weather that leaked into your apartment.
Mreeeooow!
Your head whips to the door at the loud sound. Your cat was talkative but he was never very loud about him. This time the usual cute sound was replaced with an almost screech that made you cringe.
You take a deep breath before standing up and making your way to your room door. Once you open it the sounds of your cat get louder and now you can hear Simon too. His voice is booming but isn't loud it's stern and serious but filled with frustration and anger.
As you walk down the hall to the living area your duvet drag behind you on the floor. The floor creaks and groans under your feet alerting the two others in your home. Both their heads snap towards you. Your little baby's ears are pinned back in airplane mode and his pupils are dilated. Your big baby has his nose scrunched and lips downturned into a frown.
Your voice is laced with tiredness and a little deeper than it normally is, "What are you two arguing about this time?" The back of your hand is rubbing one of your eyes again as you speak.
"The little fucker is bein' disrespectful, he's not listenin' to me."
The cat meows loudly in response to Simon seeming trying to say he was lying.
You sigh and move to pick your cat up, he turns to putty in your arms and nuzzles his head against your chin. You walk towards Simon now. Leaning into him and humming contently when he wrapped his arms around you and the little one in your arms pretending to be annoyed but fully relaxing against your body.
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yandere-writer-momo · 29 days
Text
Yandere Short Stories:
Let Me In
Yandere Francis Mosses (Doppelgänger) x GN Reader
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Swish. Swish.
You leaned back as your foot steadily rocked the cushioned seat of your desk chair from side to side. It was yet another boring day of being the doorman for this apartment complex. Yet you couldn’t help the shudder run down your spine from time to time since you constantly felt under surveillance. Then again, perhaps you were going slightly insane from working such long hours in such a narrow space? There was no way someone would stalk you of all people… right?
You let out a low chuckle at your thoughts. You recently felt as if your days melt together. It was the same routine every single day. Stop the doppelgängers from entering the apartment complex. Check their IDs and entry requests. Call their room. You were tired of this consistent repetitive pattern! You wanted some excitement for once-
“Hello.” You jumped to attention when a handsome man stood before you. Your eyes nearly shot out of your head at the blood that stained his face. Was it macabre of you to find that attractive. “I just got off work and I’d like to call it a day in my apartment.”
“Y-you have a little.” Your breath hitched when he wiped the blood off with his thumb and gave you the faintest of smiles.
“Ah. I hadn’t realized I made a mess earlier. Thank you.” The man then handed you his ID and entry request. Francis Mosses was it? He was indeed a looker and his ID checked out… but he wasn’t on today’s list.
“I’m sorry, Francis. You’re not on the list today-“ you scream when he slammed his hands on the window. His half-lidded eyes now wide open and bloodshot. This man no longer looked like an angel, but rather a demon. A demon that would no doubt rip you apart and swallow you whole.
“I’m not on the list? I’m sure you could let me in.” You quickly push the emergency button but his large hands grab the metal doors before you can shut them completely. You gulp when you spot the veins bulging from his gray hands. “Haven’t you been bored lately? You always look so lonely at your desk… I’m sure I could show you a good time.”
Well, Francis wasn’t wrong- no! You can’t endanger the residents! You dialed the D.D.D’s number with haste which made the doppelgänger sigh.
“Fine! Have it your way.” Francis casted you one last look. “But I will be back. And you will let me in. Remember, I’m always watching.”
You deflated like a ballon and sunk back into your chair. Your body felt as if your bones had completely melted from how scared you were… you’ve never encountered such an aggressive doppelgänger before…
“You have contacted the D.D.D. A group of agents has been sent to your building.” The garbled voice on the other end of the line brought you back down to reality.
You sighed and leaned forward to put your face in your palms. What on earth did Francis mean that he would always be watching?
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Keeping You Warm (The Milkman x F!Reader)
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Author's Note: It's been a long (LONG) time since I wrote smut, so please excuse anything, plus English is not my native language so I apologise for any mistakes. But I do hope you enjoy this!
Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ Smut. However, it's quite light/soft, so to speak. The reader has a female genitalia.
Word Count: 1.957
“Double shift again, Francis?” I asked over the phone.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” I heard Francis’ tired voice say in almost a whisper.
“Is there really no other person who could take the shift? It’s the third time this week, Francis. You’re killing yourself.” I sighed as I rested my head on my hand.
“Not really; everyone has been quitting lately because of the rise in the number of the doppelgangers' sights.” I heard the sound of glass bottles clattering in the background.
“Just… Don’t push yourself too hard, okay? You’re already tired and worn out. I understand that there’s a job that needs to be done, but you’re human.”
“I know. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself. Don’t wait up for me, okay? Get your rest. You need it more than I do. Bye.”
“Bye.” I hung up the phone, lowered my head, and laid it on the table.
It has been nearly two weeks since I last saw Francis, which is foolish since we live in the same apartment. However, due to our jobs and taking shifts, our schedules haven't been exactly the same. It’s actually gotten worse because he’s been taking double shifts to cover the lack of people, and now he has to deliver the milk and stay an extra shift preparing all the packs for the next day, which means not only collecting the empty bottles but also refilling them and sorting them out in the boxes. We only see each other when the other one is asleep since I start my shifts early, and he only gets home quite late.
As I was lost in thought, someone knocked on the window. Steven was waving his papers to get into the building.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, proceeding with my work.
Eventually, my shift ended, and I went to my and Francis’ apartment. While setting down my things, I checked my schedule for the next day, and a big smile spread across my face. It was a day off. I decided to wait up for Francis, so for the next few hours, I occupied myself with getting dinner ready and tidying up the house. When I ran out of things to do, I sat in the living room watching one of my favorite shows.
It was past midnight when I heard the keys to the front door. Francis walked in looking as tired as ever, sighing as he locked the door, the tension leaving his shoulders at being home becoming visible.
“Welcome home, love,” I said, getting up from the couch.
“I told you not to wait up, (Y/N),” Francis whispered as he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tight.
“I’m not working tomorrow, so I thought I would wait for you,” I whispered back. I held his face in my hands, and he looked exhausted. “Do you want to go to bed? We could cuddle a little before sleep.”
“I would like that,” he smiled.
He followed me into the bedroom and started to get changed. I got in bed while waiting for him.
Soon, I felt his arms around my waist and his lips pressed against my neck. I turned off the lights and faced him. I put my palm on his cheek and caressed it with my thumb. I heard him sigh and move his head closer and I held it between my hands. His lips met mine in a soft and slow kiss.
“I missed you” Francis’s embrace tightened.
“I missed you too, my love” I smiled.
We kissed again, our lips moving slowly, just appreciating each other’s presence. His hand moved from my waist to my hip and down to my butt, giving it a light squeeze. I gasped slightly, and Francis took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside my mouth. What was just a lingering kiss turned into something more pressing. The warmth and softness of our lips, the wet touch of tongues, and the subtle taste of each other only added to my incoming arousal.
Unconsciously, I pushed my hips against his during the kiss, feeling his semi-hard dick. Francis moaned into the kiss. With his hand under my neck, he grabbed a fist full of my hair at the back of my head, squeezing tight and deepening the kiss. His other hand moved back to my waist, slipping under my shirt, caressing my skin, leaving goosebumps all over me.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, breaking the kiss and leaving both of us panting.
Francis rested his forehead on mine, and his hands continued rubbing the skin of my waist and neck.
“I thought you were tired,” I smiled.
“I am, but I want you,” he said hoarsely.
At the same time, his leg slipped between mine, pulling me closer by the waist. I could feel his need pressing against my intimate parts. I squeezed his leg between mine, rubbing my heat trying to ease my aching, but I knew he was exhausted, so I took the lead.
“What if I keep you warm?” I asked.
I spit a bit into my hand and reached for his pants, slipping under the waistband and into his underwear. I took his dick and started slowly moving, feeling him twitch. Francis groaned, and I felt his breath at the top of my head; he hugged me tighter and started to slowly, rocking his hips against my hand. I felt a chill down my spine; my core throbbed, and I felt it was getting wetter.
“Prep me up?” I mumbled.
Francis hummed, agreeing. His hand went from my waist to my heat, massaging my skin lightly along the way, and he pressed one finger to my entrance. I moaned quietly, continuing to pump him. He started to spread my juices around my lips and then pushed one finger inside. I moved my hips along with his finger, Francis kept his movements slow, and with each thrust, he touched a new spot inside me. Soon, he added a second finger, making me moan again and grind my hips in his hand.
“And I thought I was in need,” Francis chuckled.
“Francis…” I whimpered.
He pressed his thumb into my clit and began his scissors movements inside me, also curling his fingers to reach that sweet spot and stroke it, making me roll my eyes and breath heavily. I lifted my head, looking once again for his lips, and captured them in a hungrily open-mouth kiss, our tongues stroking each other rapidly and messy, with spit starting to drip.
I felt my walls pulsing around his fingers and that tickling sensation in my lower belly rushing me to grind faster. But I forced myself to stop. I pulled my hand away from his throbbing dick and grabbed his wrist, moving him away from me. I pushed Francis by the shoulder, laying his back on the mattress, and undressed myself. I lifted my leg and sat across Francis's lap, pulling his clothes down, freeing his dick, making him groan.
I kissed his tip and licked his entire length, from bottom to top, taking him to my mouth next. I took him until his tip reached the back of my throat and pumped the rest with my hand. I bobbed my head, sucking him and pressing my tongue against his flesh. Francis gave a husky groan and thrust his hips, hands tangling my hair.
When his dick was all wet, I raised myself and aligned my entrance with his tip. I slowly sink into him, feeling him twitch, relinquishing the feeling of his dick filling me up until he was all of him was inside me.
I set my hands on his stomach, getting used to the sensation of having him inside. Francis released a strangled breath, his hands resting on my thighs, caressing them with his thumbs.
When I was about to move, Francis took a strand of my hair and nestled it behind my ear, pulling me towards him by the back of my neck right after. He kissed me again, lips moving rapidly, only pulling away when we needed air.
The sudden movement had me squeezing his dick and he grinded his hips against me.
“Fucking tight,” Francis whispered.
I began rocking my hips, Francis matched my pace by grinding into me. Grunts and pants echoed in the bedroom; my hands were back on his stomach for balance, his hands pressed firmly on my waist to guide my movements and leave bruises. Each thrust felt heavenly, his dick sliding in and out, hitting the right spots every time, making me whimper and my legs shake.
The familiar tickling feeling in my lower belly came back, and my movements became erratic, faster, and sloppier, chasing that rush.
“I’m cuming,” I begged.
“Wait for me,” Francis urged.
He grabbed my leg and pushed my back onto the mattress. Settled between my legs, Francis resumed his movements, thrusting deep and fast. The change in position made me whine and squeeze him even tighter; it was bliss, the feeling of his weight on me, his grinding, and his dick rubbing every part inside me and hitting just the right spot.
“Francis, please” I begged again.
“Almost there” he grunted.
I tried my best to delay my incoming orgasm, focusing on Francis, on his short breaths, his muscles stiffening beneath my fingers, his raspy moans in my ear, just everything about him, taking my mind away from the pleasure he was giving me.
I tightened my legs around his body and my nails scratched his back, I was so close.
“Cum with me,” Francis pleaded.
I focused back on the sensation in my lower area. Francis sped up his pace, with chaotic and messy movements, as he began to shake. I felt the buildup of tension that made my back arch and my toes curl, like a clenching feeling. As soon as I thought that I couldn’t take it anymore, I sensed all that tension being released and pulsing throughout my body, an all-consuming release and euphoria. I moaned loudly against Francis's skin.
At the same time, Francis tensed up gave his final deep thrust and his dick throbbed inside me, releasing all of his seed, filling me up.
Francis kissed my lips tenderly, again, again and again, holding my face while supporting the weight of his body on one arm.
“I love you” he whispered between kisses.
“I love you too” I giggled, kissing him back.
He lay next to me, pulling me onto his chest. We stayed like that for a while, still panting and recovering.
“I’ll get you some water and a towel,” he said kissing my temple.
“No, it's okay I’ll get it” I pushed him down and got up. “I have to use the bathroom anyway. Do you need anything?”
“Just some water, please”.
I went to the bathroom, cleaned myself and then got a glass of water from the kitchen. When I came back to the bedroom, Francis’s breathing was deep and slow, suggesting that he was already asleep. I smiled and placed the water on his nightstand, I gave a small peck on his lips and laid down in bed, feeling my muscles relaxing after so much tension and pleasure.
The fact that our lives are regularly in danger because of the doppelgangers leaves everyone on edge, meaning that our time together safe at home is a blessing and a getaway from everything on the outside. Losing ourselves in each other is not only a reminder of being alive but also a reassurance that the other person we love so much is still by our side.
Thinking about all the things we do for each other, and while caressing softly Francis's face, I also fell asleep.
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luveline · 1 month
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i think it would be adorable seeing a conversation of spencer freaking out about pregnant!bombshell and hotch just calmly telling him all about different ways to help and them talking about new dad fears :((
pregnant!reader, 1k (sorry it was more about the pregnant part than the new dad fears!)
Hotch doesn’t know what Spencer’s going to say when he knocks, but he ushers him inside his office regardless. He has the appearance of someone with grief to share; Hotch immediately starts to think of the people he and Spencer have in common. 
“I need your advice,” Spencer says desperately. 
Hotch puts his pen in its holder. “Of course.” 
“She won’t sit down.” 
Hotch lets himself relax. “Ah.” 
“She’s acting like she isn’t pregnant at all. I want her to be happy, but she keeps running up the stairs. What if she falls?” 
“Y/N has very likely thought of that possibility already.” 
“Then why doesn’t she stop?” 
Hotch chews his cheek for a moment. “Spencer, sit down.” 
The chair squeaks as Spencer sits, scrubbing at his face roughly. 
Hotch has watched Spencer grow up, in a way, moving from twenty three to thirty quick as blinking, and he’s watched him fall in love with you, and now he gets to watch Spencer have daily conniptions over your apparent lack of self-preservation. He’s enjoyed it, genuinely, and he doesn’t mind offering some wisdom now as a partner who’s made enough mistakes to know better. 
“Spencer, you can’t make her sit down if she doesn’t want to. And she’s four months pregnant. Pretty soon, she’ll have no choice but to sit down. It’s best if you let her stay active as long as she can, so she stays as healthy as she can.” He leans back in his chair. The smirk is unbidden, but he can’t help it. “But you know this.” 
“Her ligaments are weakening, because of the baby. The pregnancy. It’s about to get much more painful for her,” Spencer says. 
“So?” Hotch prods gently. 
Spencer nods. Glances out the window down into the bullpen, before dragging his chair closer to the desk. “Hotch, it’s like she’s two different people. Or three. There’s the crying one, and the happy one, and the…” 
“The hates you one?” he offers. 
“Yes. Which is luckily quite rare, but terrifying.” 
“Just hormones, Spence.” 
Spencer breathes out. Hotch can’t help the immeasurable wave of fondness he’s feeling for his colleague. He genuinely wants to round the desk and pat Spencer on the back. This is all a learning curve, a way of life. Partners have been wrestling with their scary pregnant wives for long before he and Spencer came around. 
“The happy one is worth it, though,” Hotch guesses. He had some lovely days with Hayley. 
“You know what she’s like,” Spencer says.
Hotch can imagine. Before your pregnancy, you adored Spencer. You’ve doted on him since you met him, and if the glimpses Hotch has seen of you these last few months are any indication, you are immovably in love. Yesterday, you brushed the sesame seeds off of Spencer’s sandwich one by one because he doesn’t like them. The day before, you’d pushed your chair next to his and drawn circles into his arm the entire workday (while, impressively, still managing to finish your assigned consults). 
“There’s a common theme, I think, when she’s angry. She’s usually uncomfortable. I’ve started to go through a checklist,” Spencer says. He sounds guilty. 
“I think it’s a good idea. I noticed you’ve been keeping candy in your bag.” Hotch laughs. Spencer joins in. 
“Just the essentials.” 
Hotch doesn’t doubt that you’re on every prenatal vitamin you could ever need, that Spencer has researched pregnancy from the latest journals to the very rarest myths. He has no doubt that you’re well taken care of. You’re going to be fine. Spencer has no need to worry about you. Hotch might have cause to worry about Spencer, though. 
“Reid, I’ll tell you a secret. It might not work for you, but it worked for me.” 
Spencer holds his hands together. “What is it?” 
“The next time you want her to slow down,” —Hotch lays it out carefully, without judgement for you or any private teasing, just genuine care for the both of you— “you can distract her with the baby.” 
“I’ve tried that,” Spencer says. “She tells me I’m worrying.” 
“Not about the baby’s health. If she thinks everything is alright, it likely is. I mean about the future.” Spencer doesn’t seem to understand. Hotch searches for an example. “Baby shoes, clothes. I once calmed Hayley down from an hours-long meltdown by telling her I thought Jack would have her eyes.” 
“That works?” 
“It’s probably much nicer for her to have you encouraging positive thoughts than negative,” he says gently. 
“I guess I worry too much.” 
“Not too much, Reid. I’m just telling you what worked for me. When it’s over, you’ll miss it. A few years later.” 
They smile. Hotch watches with a distinct fatherly pride as Spencer retreats down into the bullpen where you stand talking animatedly to Anderson. You’ve been on your feet all day, in kitten heels no less, and you look tired but not unhappy. 
Spencer joins you for a while. You show no signs of moving. Hotch figures he’ll give Spencer time to act on his advice and goes back to his paperwork, losing track of time, ignoring the beep of his watch that signals lunch time. 
He finishes his paperwork a little while after. 
“I wonder what she'll have,” he hears Spencer saying. 
“She’ll have my hands,” you insist suddenly, your voice floating up the steps. You’ve always had one of those tones that attracts attention, even when you aren’t shouting. “Don’t girls often get their mom’s hands? And their dad’s noses?” 
He’s expecting Spencer to cite an article on genetic lottery, but he doesn’t. He sounds the polar opposite of how he’d panicked in Hotch’s office. “I think so. I got my mom’s hands, too. She had short nail beds.” A pause. Hotch glances out the window to find you sitting in Spencer’s chair, a sandwich laid out in two halves on a napkin, a tray of vegetable batons in your hands where they rest on your bump. “I hope she has your everything.” 
You lift your chin. Spencer taps your noses together. 
“Can I get you a drink?” he asks hopefully. 
“Yes, please. Anything you’re having.” 
Hotch isn’t smug, exactly, but he is admittedly very pleased at the outcome of his advice. 
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back2bluesidex · 4 months
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Closer To You - JJK (18+)
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Pairing: Rich, spoilt brat!Jeongguk X Doctor! Reader
Theme: Angst, smut, kinda yandere if you squint, toxic relationship au.
Wordcount: 1k+
Summary: You know that you and Jeongguk are completely different individuals from every possible aspect, and there is no future of this relationship but you can’t push him away, not when he only wants to come closer to you.
Warnings: Angst, heavy language, swearing, not super explicit sex, jeongguk is kinda mean, he refuses to wear a condom (don't do the same), obsessive behavior, hints of class difference, kinda dirty talk, reader is trying hard to push him away but he won't budge. NSFW!!
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
Listened to Closer To You by Jungkook.
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It feels weird to enter your own apartment. 
Your skin crawls underneath the heavy trench coat, as if your sixth sense is telling you that there’s something or someone waiting patiently for you inside. 
Your suspicion is confirmed when you see his silhouette prominent against the bright backdrop of your otherwise dark apartment window. 
He sits still, patiently. His eyes are focused on something you can’t tell due to the darkness. 
“What are you doing here?” you finally let your breath go and you didn’t even know you were holding it on for so long. 
You turn on the lights, slip out of your shoes and coat and walk towards the couch where he is sitting currently. He turns his head to look at you. 
“Why? Expected someone else?” Jeongguk stands up on his toes and takes a few steps towards where you are standing. 
His dark jeans, dark shirt and dark expression, everything complements the dark aura he is oozing right now. But he looks beautiful regardless. 
You scoff, “Is it not justified for me to expect anyone but you? Especially when you are the one who has been ignoring me for two weeks and three days to be precise?” 
“You fucking ditched me during the party, Y/N! You made me a look like fool before my friends just because you got called at work! How would you treat me if you were in my shoes?” Jeongguk screams at your face. His height looms over your small figure. The weight of his gaze intimidates you but you know how to shake that off. 
He is angry, you know. But you also know that his anger is not justified. 
“I would have understood, Jeongguk.” you pause, taking a few steps away from him, “you need to understand that I lead a completely different life. I don’t have time to waste sipping champagne wearing over-expensive silk dresses. I am a doctor! And I need to sacrifice my personal time for the sake of my patients! If you can’t get that in your head, if you can’t respect what I do then just fuck off! Let’s break the fuck up!” 
Your voice feels hoarse instantly. You have hardly ever screamed so much. This is so unlike you, you can’t recognize yourself. Jeongguk really pulls out the worst of you. 
Jeongguk scoffs, then he is grinning and then he is laughing at the loudest possible volume, “What? What did you say? You are going to what- break up with me?” 
You hate this side of your boyfriend. 
When you first met him at the hospital, he had minor scratches and a set of big puppy eyes. When he cutely told you how he fell down while snowboarding, you couldn’t help smiling. 
Only if you knew he is just like other rich brats sporting a “I want it, I get it” attitude, you would have resisted his bunny smile and big doe eyes, you would have stayed professional when he asked for your number, you would have turned him down when he asked you out. But now you are here, 8 months into this relationship with Chaebol Jeon Jeongguk, standing on the verge of the end because you just can’t stand being with him anymore. 
“Jeongguk please… Please just stop treating me like a possession. I am not your shiny new car. I am a human being! If you don’t love me, just- just let me go.” your voice comes out weaker than it should. Even though it has only been 8 months, even though Jeongguk is not the most ideal boyfriend, even though you two have hell and heaven difference between you, you still fell for him regardless. And you know it’s a mistake because there is no way you are more than just a fancy doctor girlfriend for him. It hurts but you know rationality is more important than your feelings right now. 
You are so busy gathering your own wits that you don’t notice the heartbroken expression that takes over Jeongguk’s beautiful face. 
“I- I don’t love you? I don’t treat you like a human?” his voice weavers. The tremble in his words makes you look up at him. 
“No you don’t.” you say briefly. 
“Oh?” his eyes start glistening with moisture and he diverts those away from yours. Running a hand through his hair out of frustration he groans, “then why do you think I am with you?” 
That’s a million dollar question, you don’t know the answer properly. So, you reply with what you think is the most appropriate answer, “it makes you look cool. A normal working class girlfriend to a millionaire chaebol… What a good match!” 
As soon as your answer ends, you see Jeongguk taking fast steps towards you. He grabs you by your neck and pulls your face closer to his. You stumble, being unable to keep up with his actions. 
“I love you, Y/N. You better get that inside your head. I am not letting you go, not now, not ever.” he breathes on your face, pinning you down with a sharp, piercing look in his eyes. 
You don’t know what to feel, not when you see a weird determination in his eyes, not when his mouth is crashing on yours, not when Jeongguk is devouring your lips fervently. 
Minutes pass and you find yourself naked in your bed, with Jeongguk in between your thighs, kissing your mound, licking your clit and saying “I love you” in every interval. 
You don’t know what to feel when he pushes his girthy length inside you but refuses to wear a condom claiming to “shoot his babies inside you”. 
You don’t know if your stomach is filled with butterflies or fear or is it just Jeongguk’s bulge, when he fucks you relentlessly murmuring how much he worships your body, how he wants to fuck you every day after marriage. 
You don’t know whether to kick him out of your apartment or keep him with you forever when he cleans you up, places a kiss on your forehead, tells you that he loves you again and again and gradually falls asleep beside you. 
You only know that you and Jeongguk are completely different individuals from every possible aspect and there is no future of this relationship but you can’t push him away, not when he only wants to come closer to you. 
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spicyspiders · 21 days
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something that never existed
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Francis Mosses x male reader smut
1.4k words
This is really dark. Francis gives the reader a bottle of milk that makes him feel funny, follows him home, and then takes care of him.
It hits you during the middle of your shift. You aren’t sure of what, but the feeling of it has grown more intense each hour since it began. Pushing through the double doors is harder than when you did it this morning, your arms feeling heavy. 
The cool evening air against your skin nearly has you moaning. Your skin burns, and the refreshing air makes you want to tear off your clothes. Each step against the pavement feels heavy as you slug your way to your home. If you were a passerby, you would probably be annoyed hearing the loud sound of your shoes against the sidewalk, but even though the noise filled your ears again and again, you could also hear the quieter steps of someone behind you. 
Someone fucking drugged you. Or maybe something made it through the slot in your workstation. Or maybe–
You didn’t fucking know. All you knew was that because of it, you were half-hard by the time you made it to your front door. 
“Are you following me?” You asked loudly as you leaned your sweaty forehead against your door. You panted against the door as you waited for a response. You laughed to yourself as you stuck your hand into your pocket to get your keys. Great, alongside the lust, you were also going crazy. 
“You looked like you needed help. So yes, I followed you,” a voice said from behind you. 
Your eyebrows drew together, trying to recognize the voice. It only took a few moments to pinpoint where you knew it from. You heard nearly a hundred voices a day at your job, but there was something about the man’s voice that was different and made it memorable. 
You just couldn’t remember his name though. Frank? Fraser? Frederick? You didn’t really care to try and remember his name. You had more pressing matters, like picking up the keys you had finally pulled from your pocket and then dropped on the fucking ground. 
“Let me,” Frank, Fraser, or Frederick says, his voice much closer behind you. “Here,” he says, now beside you. 
You hold your hand out to accept the cold metal into your palm. You hope the man will just leave as you close your fingers around the keys and the sharp metal digs into your palm, but the man stays. 
“I’m fine,” you say to the man, sticking the key into the knob with your shaky hands. 
“Let me at least help you get inside,” the man responds, one of his hands moves to your shoulder, while the other goes to your waist to hold you upright.  
“Fuck,” you whisper. Where he touches you somehow feels warmer than the rest of your body feels, even over your clothes. His voice brings you back to earlier in the day when he showed up to the window to be let in. You thought it was pretty weird for a milkman to deliver to his own apartment building, but it definitely wasn’t the weirdest thing you saw during your shift. 
“Let me in?” He had asked you earlier that day. Through the window, you could see his carrier full of milk bottles, but you could also see an extra bottle in his other hand. 
“Making an extra delivery for today?” You asked as you looked over the papers he gave you. 
The man didn’t answer. He must not have heard you, you thought. He nodded in appreciation when you gave his papers back and pressed the button to unlock the door. You thought that was going to be that, but the man got your attention again after you had started going through other papers on your desk. 
“This is for you, actually,” he said as he held the bottle up. One corner of his mouth twitched up, making it look like for once, he wasn’t miserable. 
“Oh,” you said in surprise. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to accept gifts, but took the bottle anyway through the slot under the window. 
“You must get thirsty back there.”
“Yeah,” you chuckled lightly, “my mouth can get dry with all of the talking I do.”
He left after that, but you swore his eyes had flicked down to your lips before he walked through the door. 
“Did you put something in that milk?” You asked, pulling the key from the knob. 
Francis. You remembered as his hand went over yours on the knob. You could see the document in your head, as you tried to remember if the man with you now was the same from earlier in the day. 
“Did you like it?” He asked, “I made it just for you,” he said into your ear, his warm breath puffing across your ear. 
With strength you didn’t know you still had, you sent your elbow backward into the man’s chest. You thought that would be enough, but found yourself on the other side of the door with Francis on your back. 
“What’d you do to me?” You moaned against the door. His weight on your back was heavy as he held you against the door. This close, you could feel the length of his cock digging into your lower back. 
You let out another moan, but this time, Francis lets out one that matches yours when he grinds his hard cock into your back. His hands go to your hips to maneuver you around so he can grind his cock into the meat of your ass. 
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” Francis says, laying his body along the length of your back so he can say the words directly into your ear. 
Enough to drug you, you guessed. Whatever he gave you was enough to turn your brain to mush, and the only control you had was dedicated to pushing your ass back into his cock. 
“Please,” you whined, “it hurts.” Francis lets you fall slowly to the floor and makes his way to hold himself tightly against your back. What hurts is your hard cock, but of course, Francis knows that the relief you need comes in the form of his hands between your legs. 
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Francis whispers. His fingers skillfully get your pants open, and then his fingers– the same ones you saw earlier today hand you his papers, wrap around your cock. 
You immediately fuck your hips into his fist, much closer than you expected. You hoped that with your release, Francis would be leaving along with it. Maybe you had fallen asleep at your station and this was some fucked up dream you were having. Letting your head fall forward to thunk into your door didn’t wake you up, so it’s likely that this was real. 
“You’re so wet here,” Francis says in amazement as his fingers collect the precum from the head of your cock and what had already leaked down the shaft. He hooks his chin on your shoulder before he pulls his hand from your cock, and up to his mouth. 
He groans into your neck when he gets the taste on your tongue, “Francis,” you whisper, hoping that saying his name would be enough. You didn’t want to beg, after all, your hard cock should be evidence enough of what you needed. 
“I’m sorry,” Francis says, kissing his apology into the soft skin of your neck. Though it wasn’t on your lips, the press felt electric. “I just needed a taste.”
His words go straight to your cock and you feel another bead of precum drip from the head, just in time for Francis’ fingers as they wrap around the base. 
You cum to Francis’ long fingers around your cock and to the feel of his cock digging into your back. With his chest pressed to your back, the groan he lets out as you come undone under his hands travels through your body. It almost feels as if he’s so close that he’s a part of you and the noise comes from your mouth. It makes you feel crazy. What makes you feel even crazier though is how much you moan for the man as your orgasm courses through your body.    
Francis holds your body up with an arm wrapped around your stomach as you pant against the door and come down from the orgasm that just shot through your body. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart,” Francis says, his voice full of promise, “it’s been a long day.”
It must be the drugs, you thought as you let him pull you up from the floor. Your soft cock gives a twitch from where it hangs between your legs. You weren’t even sure if it was worth buttoning your pants back up. 
Francis was right, it had been a long day, but you had a feeling that you also had a long night ahead of you. 
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yawnderu · 5 months
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K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Chapter IV
Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.
1 2 3 4 5
What's a Lieutenant if not someone you can use as a stress reliever
Or
Being a gifted medic comes with free rewards
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You weren't the only one catching up on some sleep. Simon was awake throughout Johnny's entire surgery despite having slept four hours the previous night, wanting to be available in case you needed his help, finally getting some much-needed rest after being practically forced by Price.
He wakes up six hours later, a small groan escaping his lips at the light entering his window. His burly arm comes up to cover his eyes, shielding them from the bright sun.
''Fuckin' hell.'' He muttered, getting up from bed and putting on a black balaclava. Shit went down yesterday, with Johnny almost dying, and Makarov is now free, able to continue killing civilians until they're finally able to catch him. At the very least, his best friend is alive and stable last time he visited.
Simon leaves his room, walking to the cafeteria to get a bottle of cold water and a few granola bars before heading to your quarters, knocking on the door softly in case you're asleep. No reply. He knows better, but... what if something happened to you? He uses the pathetic excuse to justify his actions, hand turning the doorknob carefully before stepping inside, footsteps surprisingly quiet for someone his size.
What a fucking sight. He stared at your sleeping figure for a while, taking in the details of your face when it wasn't pulled into a scowl or a bored expression, a small smile tugging on his lips at how peaceful you look before he realized how creepy he was being. He shook his head softly as if to snap out of it, putting the water bottle and granola bars before turning away to try and leave.
Try, because a much smaller hand wrapped around his wrist, almost making him flinch because of how sudden it was. He looks down at you only to find your eyes boring into his, tugging him closer by the wrist. A confused Simon followed like a lost dog before his feet rooted on the ground in front of your bed, giving you a questioning look with his eyes.
''Come lay with me.'' Your voice is much gentler than usual, laced with something he can't quite recognize yet. Simon knows better, really he does, but who is he to question the medic he's been pining on for months? He hesitantly removes his boots and climbs into bed with you, keeping a respectful distance despite his behemoth frame taking over half of the bed. His muscles tense up when he feels you cuddling up to him, being a painfully fitting piece against his body.
''What are you on bout, doc?'' You don't reply, simply examining his eyes for any hints of hesitation. You find nervousness, curiosity, doubt, and even the smallest hints of fear, but no hesitation at all. Your hand sneaks up to the bottom of his balaclava, pulling it all the way off before your lips crash into his hungrily. It takes him a few seconds of pure confusion before he kisses back, arms wrapped around your waist, and whatever questions he has on why you're doing this all of sudden pushed to the back of his mind.
Your hands grab at anything they can reach— muscle, skin, hair... anything, holding onto his much bigger body like a lifeline, his warm hands running up and down your back. He has fantasized about this moment so many times, yet the real thing is so different in a good way.
''Tell me I can touch you, bird.'' You simply nod your head and try to go back to kissing him, but he pulls away, gently squeezing your waist to make you look at him.
''Use your words.'' His words are almost pleading, wanting to make sure you want the same thing.
''I want you to touch me, Simon.'' Not a second passes before his lips are back on yours, tongues wrapping around each other's as his hands start to drift down, grabbing a handful of your ass. His touch is so desperate it almost makes you laugh, one of your hands sneaking down his shirt and feeling him up, defined muscles flexing under your touch. His slightly shaky hands fumble with the button of your jeans, breaking away from the kiss just to look at you and make sure you still want it. The half-lidded look you give him is enough confirmation, pulling down your jeans and getting on his knees, between your legs.
"Been wanting to do this since I saw ya." He confesses, too excited for his fantasies finally coming true to even feel remotely bashful about his words. He lifts up your shirt enough to reveal your tummy, gentle kisses planted on every single inch of skin his lips can reach as he slowly descends, planting open mouthed kisses over your clothed cunt.
"Fuck—" Your back arches at the feeling, eyes screwed shut as your hand goes to the back of his head, pushing him closer. His tongue is warm and wet, saliva mixing in with your growing arousal. He pushes your panties to the side, looking down at your gleaming pussy before digging in, tongue lapping the wetness before he latches onto your cunt, sucking and licking away like a starved man.
"You taste s'fucking good." He praises before going back down, the flat of his tongue moving around your cunt before slowly going inside, your whiny moans and hands gripping his short hair are all the encouragement he needs. He latches onto your clit next, long fingers teasing the entrance of your cunt, spreading your arousal all over them before he slowly enters you with one.
His fingers are thick and long, whiny moans escaping your lips as he adds a second one, making scissoring motions as he fucks his fingers deeper and deeper into you, tongue alternating between licking and sucking on your clit before hesitantly letting go.
"Sit on my face." It's not even a request, it sounds like a plea, though you quickly listen to his words for the first time ever, cunt hovering above his face as soon as he lays back down. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing the plush and pulling your body down to his face, eating you out like a starved man. His hands let go of your ass to unbuckle his belt, barely having the strength to pull his hard cock out of his jeans, eyes closing as he focused on the dual sensation of pleasuring you with his mouth and pleasuring himself with his hand, pre staining his fingers as his hand moves up and down his shaft faster.
"Fuck— Just like that, Si." Si. You never call him anything other than Simon. Sometimes Ghost, when you're needed during missions and hang around them in the helos, but the way you say his name... so much affection, even if it only comes from making you feel good. He's pathetic— God, he knows he's being pathetic, cock twitching in his hand at the idea of you reciprocating his complex and strange feelings for you, ropes of thick cum shooting out into his hand and stomach, a low growl coming out of his lips as he squeezed his cock dry of cum.
He focuses solely on you now, tongue swirling and flickering all over you, his clean hand coming up to rub your clit with his thumb while he assaults your dripping wet cunt with his lips and tongue. Your hands go down to his head, fingers pulling on his short hair while you use his face to feel good, getting closer and closer to the edge.
"Si, I'm gonna cum—" But he doesn't stop. Hell, his thumb moves even faster over your sensitive bud, tongue-fucking your pussy as deep as he can until he can feel your body shaking on top of him, thighs closing in on his head and squeezing as the intensity of your orgasm washes over you, his waiting mouth taking in all your juices, lapping at them greedily until you pull away from the stimulation, shaky legs managing to position yourself next to him, head against his chest.
"You hear that? Price is calling you." You lie, unable to contain the smirk on your lips as he flicks your nose.
"Piss off, doc." His burly arms wrap around you, a loud groan of protest escaping your lips when you realize you're forced to cuddle with him.
[PREVIOUS]
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crushmeeren · 6 months
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SFW & NSFW Bakugou Headcannons
Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+; continue scrolling or block if you aren’t into this
Note; These are Random SFW & NSFW Bakugou headcannons that exist to me 😫 sometimes I can’t stop thinking about Bakugou and the things he may do. I needed to just get them out even if it isn’t a one shot. Please enjoy these with me 💥 Also, these were only a few, I had a lot more but didn’t wanna make it too cluttered
Warnings; making out, pussy eating, hickies, choking, bit of dirty talk/praise, not so vanilla vaginal sex/anal sex, aftercare
Another note; I may have gone a bit overboard with this… anywho I really really liked writing this, just something to post in between my one shots, I could write more for him as well as other characters, feel free to suggest one! 💕
If this gets 1,000 notes I’m gonna shit myself
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Katsuki who constantly paints his nails black and has piercings lining from the lobes all the way up on both sides of his ears, plus a tragus on the left and a daith on the right (black and silver jewelry only)
Katsuki who also has a damn eyebrow piercing, who also has tattoos all over his arms and chest (mostly black & gray), it all, unsurprisingly, makes you drool
Katsuki who is actually left handed, who places his right hand on the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he drives because he always wants to touch you (the fucker squeezes a bit too hard when someone cuts him off, road rage for real with him)
Katsuki who only listens to Japanese rock and heavy metal at full fucking volume, who rolls the windows down during summer and blasts it while you drive down the highway (but you love the music too, so you digress)
Katsuki who religiously wears all black, who loves Doc Martens and Vans, who has an unbearable amount of SiM band T-shirts (which you steal, but he doesn’t mind)
Katsuki who plays the drums and learns your favorite rock song just so he can play it for you (spoiler- you cry)
Katsuki who says fuck almost every other word (but so do you)
Katsuki who introduces you to Eijirou & Denki, who become some of your closest & best friends (you’re so grateful for this, you love those idiots, they’re at your house often)
Kastuki who flushes a soft peachy color to the tips of ears the first time you call him Katsuki
Katsuki who bakes you any desert you want, whenever you want, who always makes you dinner (it’s like an orgasm in your mouth)
Katsuki who encouraged you to get into fitness in the first place, who has supported you every step of the way, who loves you no matter what you look like, but wanted to share his passion of working out with you (Eijirou is often there with you)
Katsuki who helped you learn how to love yourself, who has always been your weight lifting/running buddy (you complain, but now you secretly love going to the gym with him. Plus Bakugou in gym clothes? Dear god.)
Katsuki who pushes you outside your comfort zone, who is stern but that’s what you need to stay focused
Katsuki who can tell when you’re getting overstimulated at the grocery store, so he moves as fast as he can, giving anyone around you the bitchiest look he can manage, while holding your hand and whispering sweet words to you
Katsuki who loves you unconditionally, who you trust wholeheartedly, who is your best friend, who you want to spend the rest of your life with, and he feels the exact same way
💥Little Warning, the NSWF part is below this 💥
Katsuki who fucking loves making out, who gets warm shivers, cock throbbing when you lick behind his teeth and over the roof of his mouth
Katsuki who sucks your soft nipples into his mouth one at a time, who likes to tease you, giving you the erotic view of his warm tongue swirling around one, sucking with plush lips, who bites and pulls making your skull dig into the pillow
Katsuki who sharply bites hickies into the underside of your tits, dull teeth making your skin ache, forcing you to squeal as he liters you with bruises
Katsuki whose voice is gravelly and low when he whispers to you that you’re his needy little bitch and his sweet girl in the same goddamn sentence (you think you could cum just from his nasty mouth)
Katsuki who wraps his pretty lips around your clit making you see stars, sucking gently, who slips his middle two fingers into your slick pussy and swirls his tongue around your sensitive bud until your dripping, badly aching for his cock
Katsuki who gets you so motherfucking wet his thick cock slides in all the way in at once, curly blonde pubes brushing your clit, who sends heat flaring up your spine, out to your limbs as you feel every inch of his dick slide in and out
Katsuki who bites roughly at your calf (he really loves biting you), who leaves teeth marks near your ankle bone as he wraps his fingers around one leg, hooking your knee over his shoulder as he folds you in half
Katsuki who lets you wear his fingers as a necklace, squeezing the sides just right, so you feel dizzy, lightheaded with pleasure when he makes you cum like that
Katsuki who gets so sweaty during sex you watch as it drips down the side of his face, down his neck, who laughs, making you feel filthy when you can’t resist the urge to sit up and lick the liquid from the hollow of his throat
Katsuki who actually fucking loves anal because your ass sucks his cock in just right, who fucks you from behind while he stretches your ass open (little bit of double penetration with his fingers, it’s so damn good)
Katsuki who lets you guide his cock slowly into your ass, panting, whining, growling about how hard it is not to flex his cock so he doesn’t rip you in half
Katsuki who lets out high pitched whines/moans when he starts to really fuck your tight ass, who pushes down on your upper back, nails digging in, forcing you into the mattress
Katsuki who fucks your ass so well your fingers almost rip the sheets, who has you screaming Katsuki! so loud you muffle your shouts in the mattress, whose hips bounce off your ass so hard it turns your skin red
Katsuki who nails your sweet spot through your ass, who makes you makes you cum so hard you get chills, who makes you scream out that you can’t take it (but you can and he knows, your safe word is dragonfruit after all)
Katsuki who is so mean, gripping your hips so tightly, pulling you back into his thrusts, who speaks condescendingly when he asks you where the fuck you think you’re going, because he knows you can take his thick cock, cuz you’re his good little girl
Katsuki who fills your ass, your pussy, cums anywhere he fucking wants because he can, covering you in thick, warm ribbons of his release
Katsuki who cleans you up after, who helps you get dressed, who trades sweet kisses with you in the dark as he holds you until you pass out, head resting on his chest as he snores softly
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mommypieck · 6 months
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⌗︙・peeping tom ino ⸜⸜・
you knew you had a peeping tom under your window every night. you could see his eyes hidden by a mask scanning your figure when you'd change clothes or when stepping out of shower.
but today, you decide it's time to end his little games. you slowly peel your top off your body, the push up bra you decided to wear today, giving him a good view of your tits.
"okay, come out, you creep." you say, putting your hands on your hips and puffing your chest. ino feels his heart stop beating, are you talking to him? do you know that he's here? his head pokes from the hiding and your eyes meet.
"did you think i didn't know about you?" the question is fair, because he thought he was well hidden.
"will you take off that mask?" this time, he shakes his head. he can't let you know his identity.
"hmm... bad, because im gonna soak it once i am riding your face." he doesn't have a chance to react because you're dragging him by his arm. even though he's bigger than you, you have no problem with throwing him on the bed. he's too shocked to have time to react. you kneel over his head, lowering your hips on his face. he wants to say something but he's shushed by your pussy. you waste no time grabbing his hair through the mask and rubbing your face around his mouth and face. ino is in heaven, he's in heaven but he's not entirely sure what he should do. his tongue lols out to lick your clit and opening, gathering your juices on his tongue. he swears he never tasted anything so good before. you're sweet on his tongue, sweet enough for him. his eyes roll to the back of his head, mouth latching on your clit. you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release. he's inexperienced for sure but just the thought that someone who's been following you around and watching you is now eating you out, excites you.
"oh fuck yeah." you whine, the knot in your stomach untying and you cum on his face. juices pour all around his mouth and his mask, soaking it wet.
ino lies on the bed, still shocked of what happened. you use it as an opportunity to pull the mask of his face.
"why did you had the mask on?" you ask him, cocking your head to the side.
"because i was scared you wouldn't find me attractive."
"omg, stalker. i just came on your face plus you're pretty. now let me help you with your little problem."
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messylustt · 7 months
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v.05.10.23 day three: power imbalance ( nsfw )
YOU CAN’T LEAVE — miguel o’hara: miguel is your boss. a cold man who everyone fears, but how does he react when you walk in with a resignation letter?
marks power imbalance. dubcon. blackmailing. possessive!miggy. p in v.
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even though your posture showed confidence and provided you with false assurance as you walked down the lavish hall of the company you worked for, your hands still stuck to the letter you were holding. you’re praying your sweat isn’t sinking into the paper.
once you reach mr. o’hara’s office door, you straighten your spine even more and knock. there’s a few moments of silence before you hear the gruff and clearly annoyed voice of your boss. “come in.” you push open the door, careful to de-crinkle the letter as you brush at your skirt.
the moment you stepped inside and shut the door, miguel’s eyes darted up. “finished already?” he leans back in his chair, his gaze flittering across your clothes, your hand readjusting your pencil skirt. “um, no sir, the papers are underway. i just came in to give you this.” you walk over, your heels clicking along the shining floor as you offer the letter to miguel.
miguel grabs it off you, his gaze only then leaving your form to look at the letter. he pauses once he catches the first word, typed out in bold. ‘resignation’. “what’s this?” his voice is still as cold as always, as you paste on a smile. “a resignation letter, sir.”
“why are giving this to me?” he asks to which your brows furrow. “because i mean to…resign.” you thought it was obvious. you had thought he’d be secretly jumping for joy at the prospect of you leaving. with his scolding and hard stares you didn’t think he liked you very much. “again, let me ask, why are you giving me this?” what you didn’t know was that the first feeling miguel got at the thought of you leaving was one of distaste, a sourness in his mouth, along with a pit in his stomach. leaving? you were leaving?
“i’ve loved working here, it’s given me many opportunities — ” you begin in that polite tone of yours but miguel cuts in. “get to the point.” you press your lips together as you hold back from retorting something you’ll regret. “i’ve been offered a job.” you say a little more bluntly. miguel stares at you, that coldness in his eyes actually sending shivers down your spine. “you have a job.” he remarks, his tone still indifferent.
“i don’t think this job is fit for me anymore.” you say. “and what makes you think that you can decide that?” his question has you pausing, mouth opening before closing again. “i’m sorry?”
miguel stands, walking around his desk slowly as you twist your body to face him. “do i have to keep repeating myself, miss?” you slightly shuffle back as subtly as possible as he nears, head tilted down at you. “i don’t understand the question, sir.”
“then what makes you think that you could do well anywhere else?” miguel’s tone has turned a little harsher, as he’s neared. “that’s a bit out of line—“ but miguel cuts you off. “i’m your boss. don’t you want your boss to be honest? because you and i both know that this is the only company you’re fit to work at.”
you stare up at him, really holding back, as you grind your teeth. “you may have forgotten, or plainly not heard me,” you mutter out, more quietly. “but i got offered the job. that means someone is wanting me to be a part of their company.” you say, sparing a look to the side, pretending to be glancing out the window, when in reality you only wanted to get away from his sharp gaze.
but miguel isn’t having that, grabbing your chin, as he redirects your focus back onto him. your breathing hitches a fraction at the now close proximity between you both. “and who is this someone?” he practically sneers. you go to step back, but he tightens his hold on your chin. “no no, come on. it’d be rude not to share with your boss.”
“you aren’t my boss anymore—“
“you’re my employee, miss,” He follows with with your last name. “Even by your little letter you still have a month here.” he speaks lowly. you hate the fact that he’s right. your contract states that you must give notice a month before hand. “but you aren’t leaving.”
“you can’t decide that, sir.” you say evenly, grabbing his wrist, and pulling his hand away. miguel raises his brows, before nodding, looking to the side with a scoff, his tongue poking out against his cheek. “is that right?”
“yes.” you say, finally creating some distance. “you seem unnaturally confident today.” he remarks. “what happened to that timid little thing who brought me coffee? don’t tell me you’re feeling all empowered now since you think you’re leaving?” throughout his words he’s begun to step closer. your backwards steps are matching his, as he nears you again. “because that’s a little pathetic if you feel confident about getting away from here. from me.” your lower back hits his desk, making you jolt a fraction. “is that it? you’re happy about getting away from me?”
“this has nothing to do with you…sir.” you say, trying your best to keep your voice even and professional. “it doesn’t? oh, well that’s good.” he remarks, making your face contort in further confusion. “i wouldn’t want you going off and babbling on about what a terrible boss i am.” he’s neared you, body practically pressed up against yours as you fold your lips behind your teeth. “mr. o’hara — ”
“no, tell me. is it something i did?” usually one sounds apologetic when they say this, but miguel sounds the farthest from it, almost challenging you to speak against him. you stay silent, darting your gaze around and towards the door. miguel watches you closely, before he leans in towards your ear. “or is it something i didn’t do?” his almost intimate tone has your back stiffening. “because you know you can always talk to me.” his overly sweet and almost mocking tone has you gulping. “i want to treat my employees with…care, don’t i?”
“sir, again, this isn’t about you — ” but he again cuts you off. “but it is.” he remarks, his expression away from your line of sight and far too close to your neck. he’s eyeing your skin, down your throat and towards your beating pulse. “let me repeat myself.” his breath hits your neck, as he leans back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “you aren’t leaving.”
“…why?” exasperation has finally cracked through your tone, as he leans back to meet your gaze. “why?” he muses. then you’re suddenly being flipped around, body pressed right up against his desk as he bends you over, your chest squished against the expensive glass. your eyes grow wide when you feel his knee nudge your legs apart. a shiver runs down your spine as the cool air hits your closed pussy, the stretch of your skirt gaining miguel’s attention. you try to speak, to protest, but no words seem to surface, especially as miguel’s hands push your pencil skirt farther up, revealing your ass and panties to him.
“because you, have always been so good to me. so diligent. why would i settle for someone else when i have my perfect little assistant right here in front of me.” he continues, humming to himself as he strokes and manhandles your ass and thighs. “you can’t stop me from resigning.” you manage as you try to flip back around, but his grip on you makes it impossible. “i can do is a lot worse then that, querida.”
he then slips his hands into your panties making you squirm as he pushes them to the side. “you really think that you’d do well anywhere else? i take good care of you here, don’t i?” you can hear the zip and clank of his belt as you breath harder. “no other boss would treat you this well.” miguel pulls out his cock, pumping it a few times, but it’s already hard, his arousal having begun the moment you stepped into his office. “treat me well? you treat me horribly.” you hiss back, before you gasp as he pulls your panties up creating a string to rub right over your clit. you grip his desk, knuckles turning lighter.
“no, i’ve treated you far too well, because usually the moment that i want to fuck someone i do. i don’t care if it’s a work setting, hell, i don’t even care if someone sees. i’ve showed you restraint, because believe it or not you’ve actually been a rather helpful assistant to me. wouldn’t wanna scare you off. but you know what?” miguel pulls your panties to the side again, as he then, brushes the head of his cock through your wetness, his breathing heavier. “mierda…” he mutters out, eyes entirely focused on the way your pussy lips are hugging him, as your breathing stutters.
he leans over your body, grabbing your hair and pulling you back into him, a small groan leaving him as your ass pushes into him completely. “no matter what you did you always made me want to touch these pretty pussy lips of yours. and now…” he slips his hand down between you, widening your pussy lips with his fingers as he forces your back to arch even more. “now you’re gonna let me slip my cock inside you, and let me fuck you into my desk. you’re gonna let me do that, right?” his tone is demanding and full of manipulation, no room left for a ‘no’. “feel free to yell, call for help, because if you do just know that that little company who asked for you suddenly won’t be taking any new employees. along with every other business in the state.”
you gasp as he sinks into you, harshly pushing your skirt further up your body as his hips begin to move, thrusting into you. his hands find your back and neck, pushing you further down onto the desk. “widen your legs, querida…come on now…” he breathes, as his cock thrusts in and out of you, giving you no room to adjust to his size, as small hiccups and whimpers leave your lips, your body bouncing along the desk. “that’s it — ” he groans out, thrusting harder into you as your legs shake.
he scoffs as he watches your ass jiggle, slapping right up against his happy trail. his large hand squeezes and plays with a cheek, slapping occasionally just to hear you gasp for more breath. “can’t believe you came in here with that stupid letter.” each word is pronounced roughly with each thrust to match. “you really think that you can just leave? aw, my sweet girl, you’re a little stupid aren’t you?” he’s licking his lower lip, head slightly tilted back as he grips you harder, pulling you back onto his cock as all you can do is babble and murmur, your eyes threatening to roll back.
“who came up to you?” he breathlessly asks, switching the pace slower just to make you squirm. “hm? who offered you the job?” he tugs harshly on your hair when you don’t answer. “m-mr. dalton.” you manage, even though your throat is dry. “mr. dalton.” miguel repeats, as he lets your hair go, spreading your ass cheeks with both his hands, just to see the way his cock is sliding in and out of your dripping wet hole. “from that northside company?” he rhetorically asks. “i guess I’ll have to pay him a little visit then, won’t i?”
miguel leans over you, lips, tongue and teeth trailing your spine up to the back of your neck, as he continues to fuck you into his desk. “i’ll just have to let him know how unavailable you are. yeah…how you just love working for me far too much to leave.” he chuckles darkly into your skin, as your mouth falls open, your orgasm fast approaching. miguel’s hand slips around your thigh, as he rubs at your clit, making your grip tighten, your pants and heavy breathes fogging up his glass desk.
when miguel reached his orgasm, he barely let you finish before he was flipping you around and pushing you to sit on his desk, legs spread. you’ve barely caught your breath before miguel’s lifting one of your legs over his shoulder, your high heel rested on his back as his warm breath hits your sensitive pussy. oh he wanted so much more, as he whispered onto your clit. “tomorrow come in early. and that’s an order.”
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